Tundra
by sivvussa
Summary: Sequel to Forest. With their new allies, Daine and Numair sail back to Tortall, only to come face to face with a deadly enemy they cannot possibly fight. DN.
1. Intro, and Summary of Desert and Forest

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**Tundra**

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A Fanfiction based on "The Immortals" series by Tamora Pierce

By Sivvus

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This story is the Sequel to "Desert" and "Forest". You will find it rather confusing if you haven't read the first two sections! I hereby include summaries of both "Desert" and "Forest", just in case. If you're planning to read either and don't want to spoil them, don't read these summaries!

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SPOILERS

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SPOILERS

**DESERT:**

The stories are set in the same timeline as _The Immortals_, although the majority of Desert happens when Daine is seventeen. Rather than recovering her sanity when her village hunts her, she is captured by a slave trader named Kavan, who is searching for gifted children to sell to Emperor Ozorne. He taunts her out of the "madness", and tells Daine that he will kill Cloud if she does not obey him.

Knowing that Daine believes the wolf pack will save her, Kavan kills the wolf cubs to scare them away. Daine doesn't know this, believing the People have betrayed and abandoned her, and submits to slavery. Cloud knows that the cubs were killed, but does not tell Daine- at first out of pity, but eventually because she knows Daine will not believe her.

Daine is taken with two other gifted slaves- an older girl called Katryn, and a young boy called Danny- to Carthak, where the three are trained as spies and assassins. Katryn is a powerful mage, relying on her ears and her ability to break shields. She is very secretive about her motives and her past. She is scornful of Daine, believing her to be "weak"- however, she begins to rely on Daine to help her with her blindness. Daine also cares for Danny, who was kidnapped from his family because he can see magic. The three form a family, if not a friendship.

During the slaves' training, Tortall is struggling. The immortals run through the land, killing thousands. The country suffers a famine as the villagers die or cower in forts. Seeing its weakness, the lady of Dunlath and the Scanran lords invade the country. Starving and near-defeated, Tortall calls a temporary truce while it sends ambassadors to Carthak to ask for help.

Numair and Alanna travel to Carthak. Numair expects to be executed on his arrival, as a legitimate term of the truce. However, Ozorne welcomes the ambassadors and presents them with a gift- three young slaves to serve them during their stay.

Alanna is openly cynical about why Ozorne would act like this, and who the slaves are. Her suspicions are heightened when Numair (in hawk shape) is attacked by a second shape-shifter as he tries to contact Lindhall at the university. Numair fights off the attack and the shape-shifter falls from the sky. He lands and finds Daine, hurt and afraid, who warns him that he is in danger. She doesn't say from what, and after Alanna heals her, spins a story to make the threat seem less important.

Alanna knows she is lying, and finds Katryn spying on them with her gift soon after. She tries to convince Numair that all three slaves are dangerous, but he continues to try to talk to them. Daine is punished by Ozorne for letting Alanna heal her, and asks Cloud for advice.

Cloud is jealous that Daine spends more time with Danny than with her, and bitter that she is being treated more like a "pretty pony" than as a person. She refuses to speak to Daine.

Both ambassadors are angry at the irrational demands the emperor has produced for the truce. They realise that the emperor has no intention of helping Tortall. Alanna is shocked out of her fury when Danny asks her what the "pretty magic" is that she has around her neck. Realising the boy can see the Ember Stone through her shirt, she lets him see it. However, Katryn appears and drags Danny away before he can ask any more questions.

The next morning, Daine finds Katryn searching through Alanna's belongings for the stone, which she hid when she realised Danny could see it. Daine is dubious about stealing it, but Katryn tells her that after the "peace talks" of the day, Alanna wouldn't remember the ember stone at all. As a failsafe, Katryn makes a nectarine appear to be the stone, and takes the real ember to Ozorne.

Ozorne believes the stone to be the Dominion Jewel. He tells Katryn that Numair and Alanna had attacked him during the peace talks, and that they should be killed as traitors. He tells Katryn how to kill them so the other countries will believe the attack actually happened.

Daine overhears the meeting, and is appalled. She tries to ask Cloud's advice, but once again the pony is elusive. Returning from the stables, she runs into Numair. She tells him that she is an assassin, and that she is supposed to kill him. Numair takes her to talk to Alanna.

Alanna refuses to believe Daine when she outlines the plan, until Daine points out the spelled nectarine she is wearing. Amazed to find that her most prized possession is a fruit, she begins to believe Daine. Daine outlines Ozorne's plan.

Later that night, when she is heading back to her room, Daine is confronted by Katryn. Katryn says that Daine is a traitor, and tries to kill her, killing Danny first because he tries to follow Daine.

Daine runs away, but is backed into a corner. Katryn, half consumed by the fire of her gift, tells Daine how she was blinded by her family because she killed someone with her gift. Bitter at Daine's ability to make friends, she relishes the thought of doing the same to her.

Before she can do so, Numair appears. He had seen the encounter and realised Katryn knew the Tortallans plan to escape, and had left to warn Alanna. When he returned, he found the corpse of Danny and trailed the two girls. Katryn scoffs at him as he casts shields to protect himself and Daine from her magic, and disbelieves him when he says he doesn't need to attack her- that she's being burned alive by her gift. Katryn begins charging a spell with the last of her life force to kill him, when she hears Daine pleading with her not to kill herself. She hesitates, and the spell slips from her hands and kills her.

Numair and Daine find Alanna outside Ozorne's bedchamber, where Alanna had just cast a sleep spell on the guards. The three enter the room and confront the emperor, only to find that he has set an ambush for them. As they fight off the attackers, Ozorne tries to kill them with the ember stone. He is surprised it doesn't work, and concentrates on it. As his shields fail, Daine leaps on him in wolf-form and tears his throat out. She leads the way to the docks.

When they arrive, a Tortallan sailor sees Daine and is terrified. Hurt, and afraid that once again she will be outcast, Daine runs away. Numair follows her, and finds her preparing to ride out into the desert-where she will surely die. She tells him that she deserves to die, and she is afraid of people hating her like her village did.

Numair tells her she is worth saving, otherwise he wouldn't have followed her. He tells her that he and Alanna owe her their lives, and they wouldn't let her be an outcast. Comforted, Daine agrees to return with them to Tortall…

**FOREST:**

(this one's more complicated)

Forest continues directly after Desert. Numair and Alanna arrive back in Tortall with Daine in tow, bringing the mixed news that yes, the emperor is dead and won't be fighting, but no, we still have no allies. Jon and Thayet meet them, and have equally doleful news- the country has become overrun by bandits and immortals. The country has no grain reserves, and the people refuse to work the fields for fear of the immortals. The passes are all snowed shut, and the country is under siege and starving.

Daine is embarrassed when she finds out who Jon and Thayet are, and leaves to talk to Cloud. While she is away, Jon asks who she is and is horrified by the story- worrying that Daine is dangerous, still an assassin, and a threat to the nobles of Tortall. Outraged at his suspicions, Numair tells Jon he will be entirely responsible for anything Daine may do- and leaves to find her.

He finds her at the stables where she has fallen asleep, and is in the grip of a horrible nightmare about the deaths of her family. He wakes her up and offers to teach her to meditate- just to control the nightmares. Daine is frightened of anything she sees as "magic", however innocent- a repercussion of Katryn's magical attack in Carthak. However, she agrees to learn to meditate.

After the lesson, she tells Numair that the stable is the same one where she was held prisoner when she was first sold- and finds the spelled cord she was held with to prove it. Numair is impressed at the strength of the spell, and asks how Kavan got through Tortall undetected by any other mages. Before Daine can answer, a strange voice screams at them through the collar. Calling itself the "Rancune", it warns Numair not to ask any more questions... or pay the consequences.

Alanna and Numair take this attack to mean that there are listening spells on the collar- meaning that even though Daine is no longer a spy, she is still acting as a spy for someone on the other end of the spell. They worry that this might make Jon see her as even more of a threat, but decide not to tell Daine as they are unsure how she might react.

Having passed out from the speaking spell, Daine dreams that she is in a dark realm, speaking with a strange demon called Scul. He tells her that her nightmares and chaotic life have made her perfect, but doesn't say what for. He seems about to offer her a proposition, but is distracted by her irreverent comments and lack of fear into a rage. Before he can become further enraged, she forces herself to wake up.

As she leaves the room, she comes across a family of Starlings who are just about to leave for the winter. For the first time in years she speaks to the birds, and is delighted when they answer her. She's even more delighted when Numair finds her and gives her a letter from Jon. The letter reads that she is a citizen of Tortall- that she is free of Carthak for good, if she wishes it. Thrilled, she hugs Numair and thanks him for the lovely gift.

That evening Alanna, Daine and Numair meet to have a meal out, to say goodbye to Alanna who leaves for her home the next day "to say goodbye". During their discussion, Alanna and Numair discover that Daine had once flown across the ocean to carry a curse to a ship. They ask if she thinks she could do it again.

Daine dreams of Scul again, this time in the company of some strange subservient beings called the Runners. As the Runners drone on and Scul doesn't turn up, Daine falls asleep in the dark Chaos land and dreams of her village in Galla, with its plants and animals. When she wakes up, her imagination has come to life in the realm- an apple tree grows out of the nothingness.

Scul is furious at this "desecration" and attacks her. Before he can seriously hurt her, the Badger appears and forces Daine to wake up, fighting off the demon. Daine wakes up, and finds one of Scul's claws on her pillow. She is then visited by the Badger who convinces her that, no, she's not dreaming.

He tells her that when people meditate, they separate their spirits from their bodies- and that when she sleeps, the same thing is happening, except she's going to the Chaos Realms night after night. He tells her Scul is a dangerous demon who can only be destroyed if his mortal host is eliminated, but that he has no idea who the host is.

She visits the kitchen to find some breakfast, and is confused when the kitchen maid is terrified. The maid runs to find the head of the kitchen, who yells at Daine for "killing her family" and using "evil magic". The cook triumphantly tells Daine of what Jon said about her the first night she arrived- how she is seen as a threat, and how they don't trust her. Frightened and upset, she changes into a bird and flies away.

Flying over a copse a few miles from the port, she sees a large group of Spidren. Curious as to why there are so many, she lands too close to them and becomes stuck in a web. The leader realises she is not a simple bird when she turns into a snake, then, after she hears him talking about the Rancune, a human. She tries to convince him that she's on the same side as them, but he sees the collar and decides she's just a slave. He leaves her stuck in the web, and promises that he will deliver her back to her "master", who will kill her. He tells her they are planning to attack the port.

Daine remembers what the Badger told her about separating her spirit, and wonders if she could escape from the web that way and warn someone at the port about the Spidren. She eventually manages it after she throws the chaos claw away from her.

When she gets to the city, she realises no-one she talks to can see or hear her. Frustrated, she stands in the middle of the street and yells for someone to hear her. A nearby healer woman is terrified, and Daine realises that gifted people can detect she's there as a spirit. She goes to find Numair.

She finds him meditating in his room. He takes the news of the Spidren more calmly than he takes in the fact that she'd severed her spirit to speak to him. He shows her how much she's faded, and explains that in tearing herself away from her physical body she'd cut herself away from everything that sustains her spirit.

Daine realises she's dying and turns to go back to the Spidren camp, but Numair stops her. He offers her some of his own life force, telling her without it she'd die. Scared of his Gift Aura, she argues. He grabs her hands and casts the magic anyway, finishing the spell by kissing her.

Confused by the kiss, Daine runs back to the encampment and rejoins her body...then realises she's still trapped in the web. Seeing the claw nearby, she tries to saw through the threads, then discovers the claw snaps the web easily when she says the word "break". She frees herself and looks for the absent Spidren.

They are digging a tunnel that runs towards the port. As she goes a little way inside the tunnel, she sees that every time the tunnel passed under a house the spider monsters had burrowed through the floor, killed and eaten the occupants, and moved on. She takes some clothes and a dagger from one of the people, and backs out of the tunnel. She falls asleep outside the forest.

Numair wakes her up, angry, and demands she tell him what's going on. She promises to, after they have done something about the tunnel- and sealed any other tunnels in the area that the Spidren might use to dig into the city. They do so, burning the Spidren alive in the main tunnel.

Daine tells Numair that she knows who the elusive Rancune is- Kavan. The tactic the Spidren use, the tunnels and the way he uses the magic in the collar convinced her. She is right- Kavan is indeed the Rancune, and he's furious that she's worked it out. On the other end of the speaking spell, forced to spy on then by Scul, he is slowly going insane.

Daine also tells Numair about Scul, and the land of Chaos. He is worried, asking her if she accepted anything from the demon, but when he finds she hasn't he is relieved. He tells her of his own plan to fly across the sea to enlist the help of the Yamani people. Daine tells him he's mad to try to fly across the sea in winter, but goes along with it anyway. To speak to each other flight, Numair creates a speaking spell.

They manage to reach the Islands and collapse, exhausted, at the ambassador's house in the court grounds.

Daine dreams of Scul again for the first time since the Spidren incident. She asks her how she managed to avoid him in her dreams for the past few weeks. She doesn't know what he's talking about, but Scul evidently does- after magically reading her mind, he seems very amused. He transforms into a visage of Numair and asks her how he managed to give her some of his life-force. He asks her why she hasn't told the mage she's in love with him. When she doesn't answer, Scul tells her to make a choice- either to carry out his proposition, or to let Numair suffer. He tells her to wake up and think about it.

Upset, Daine avoids Numair. He finds her and works out part of why she's upset, telling her he can fight Scul. She tells him that Scul wants to hurt him because she's in love with him. Rather than answer, he kisses her.

Ilane and Piers, the ambassadors, tell Daine and Numair that to gain entrance into the court they must prove their honour by challenging a Yamani warrior. Daine is intrigued by the mention of "The Wolf" and agrees to fight him. When Ilane and Piers remain sceptical, she transforms into a wolf to demonstrate.

That night, Daine dreams again of Scul. He knows her decision and doesn't try to change her mind. Instead, he lets his Host talk to Daine- Kavan, the Rancune. He tells Daine that she must ally with Chaos- if not, he will use his standing army to slaughter thousands in her name, until the world (And Numair) despise her. Horrified, she accepts the offer- and he gives her a necklace to wear to show her allegiance.

The next day, they visit the court, where Daine formally challenges the flirtatious Wolf. While she is speaking to him, Kavan- the Ranune- speaks to Numair, asking for his help to escape Scul. When Numair refuses he angrily begins to tell him of Daine's "betrayal" since she kept the conversation a secret. Before he can, Daine speaks to him and wards him away from Numair. However, when Numair reassures her that he wouldn't believe anything Kavan says, she tells him he probably should.

Before she can fight The Wolf, the Hunter God appears in the court. He tells the assembled crowd that she allied with Chaos, and puts God-fury in the Shang Warrior's eyes, telling him to kill her. She fights off the attack and makes him yield, but the court arrest her for her "betrayal of the gods".

Numair is summoned by the emperor. At first he refuses to hear any excuse for Daine's betrayal, believing she deserved to be punished. Even when the emperor tells him that, as she fought with honour, he can dispatch the forces Tortall needs, he doesn't calm down. However, something the emperor says makes him realise Kavan's part in the plot- and he works out that Kavan didn't need to make Daine a comrade in Chaos, he was trying to make her a replacement host for Scul so he could be free. Realising that Kavan would try to kill Scul by killing his new host, Numair heads for the cell where Daine is trying to be held.

He arrives too late. The two mages both lie unconscious on the floor- Daine having been hit by a magical attack, while at the same time slitting Kavan's throat with the chaos claw. Kavan is dead, and Daine comatose.

Blaming himself for Daine's coma, Numair stays by her side as the Yamani court carry out trials, finding Kavan the traitor and Daine innocent of the charges made by the Hunter God. The priests say that the God had shown signs of remorse for his anger- the statue in the temple had cried, and the burned offerings were not accepted.

Ged (The Wolf) visits the ambassador's house, possessed by the Hunter God. At first Numair is suspicious of the God, but the Hunter apologises for his anger and tells Numair that the reason Daine can't wake up is that her spirit is trapped in Chaos. Numair asks him why he cares, and he tells him he's her father. Before Numair can ponder this too much, the God sends him to sleep and sends his spirit to the Chaos realms, to find Daine.

Numair finds Daine asleep in the dark dream realm, but when she wakes up she thinks he is Scul in disguise (again) and runs away from him. Before she has gone 200 yards, she sees another "Numair"- this time actually Scul. Unable to tell which one is which, she stands by helpless as they fight. Because they both act as the same person it's evident that neither can win the magical battle, that she'd have to intervene. She makes a rushed decision, attacks and kills one of the Numairs.

Thankfully, it's the right one. The Hunter Gods draws them both out of the Realm- Daine into natural, healing sleep, and Numair back to wakefulness. Numair thanks the God, who tells him not to tell Daine who he is just yet, then gives the body back to Ged. Ged, puzzled about the 30 minutes he was possessed and can't remember, tells Numair they should be friends since they're going to Tortall on the same boat, with the army. The two men leave the room, leaving Daine to sleep undisturbed.


	2. Chapter 1: Forebodings

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Tundra

Chapter 1: Forebodings

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Alanna reached her home at midday, the Swoop's reflection shining in the winter sea as the boat drew near. She stared at the small keep greedily from the porthole, drinking in her home and all she loved about it- her family was there, her husband was there, and best of all, it wasn't a god's-blasted _boat_.

The voyage had taken longer than it should have done, the sailors sailing mainly at night and along little-used straights, trying to avoid the swarms of immortals and smuggling ships that were sure to attack any boat they thought of as suspicious. The straights, safer though they were, were also treacherous, and the boat seemed to crawl along the coast. After four days of the sailors' caution, Alanna emerged from her cabin, a seasick ball of rage, and found the captain.

"What are you pussyfooting around for?" She had demanded, willing herself not to look at the waves. The captain tried to explain to her about the pirates. She listened impatiently until he stammered to a halt, then folded her arms.

"Look at it this way: I can deal with most, if not all, of the things that will apparently attack us if we go any faster. Just come and get me. Now, if you sail faster, it's possible that you might have to deal with pirates... but if you keep sailing so gods-cursed slowly, I promise you will deal with me. And I'm not as nice as smugglers or immortals, I assure you."

The captain gulped, stared at the purple-eyed wind of fury, and reassured her he'd take her advice under due consideration. Alanna smiled and stalked back to her cabin.

After that, the boat sailed smoothly through the calmer traits, easily doubling the speed it had set before. Aside from a few stormwing and hurrock flocks, who ignored the ship, the sea seemed empty.

And so Alanna reached her home. It wasn't until she was on dry land that her sea-sickened senses realised something was wrong. The keep was too quiet, the fields too empty, even for winter. The blooms of smoke that rose from chimneys were wan, frail, as if there was nothing good to burn. No flags flew in the breeze, no gay colours were displayed in the market. From the tiny dock, the only colour she could make out was the grey rock, the grey soil, the grey sky, and curious splashes of blue on some of the buildings.

No-one came down to the dock to meet the boat. Grim faced, Alanna checked to make sure her sword hadn't been stuck in the scabbard by the morning frost, and began trekking up to the 'Swoop. The path that usually seemed so short seemed leagues long, the laughing seabirds sounding mocking.

Something was wrong.

Hundreds of miles away, in a mountain pass sheltered from the worst of the bitter winter snow, Rowan Barlow also detected something wrong. Climbing down from one of the glaciers, she had stopped in one of the mountain inns to wait out the fierce blizzard when the horrible, sickening sense of _wrongness _pressed down on her. She gasped and pressed her hands to her stomach, hoping to the Green Goddess that the bairn was alright, that something, _anything_ else, was wrong.

The panic was slow to fade away, seeming to freeze to the damp hem of her ragged dress with the rest of the melt water and stick there, sending goose bumps along her skin and biting pain to her head. The baby stirred feebly in her womb, obviously feeling the chill as well. She forced her teeth not to chatter as she suppressed the foreboding, her breath shallow and laboured.

A nearby group of travellers glanced over curiously at the ashen-faced woman, their eyes direct and honest as they took in her ragged clothes, messy hair and swollen stomach. She gulped back the panic and met their stares evenly, forcing the pain aside.

She had learned the hard way that a woman on her own in an inn could easily be a target for pickpockets or bullies, unless she stands her ground. After losing several copper coins and shedding many tears, she had created a mask that she wore around other travellers. But she was sure that they could all see the fear on her face.

One of the travellers murmured something to another, a plump, cheerful looking woman, who stood up and walked over to her table.

Rowan stared at her apprehensively, unconsciously backing into the seat. The woman smiled kindly and held out a mug of mead. The younger woman stared suspiciously at the cup and didn't move.

"It's only mead," The woman said, "I remember, I used to be took bad when I was pregnant with our Shauna."

Rowan smiled tightly and took the drink. "Thank you, ma'am. That's plain nice of ye, so it is." She sipped the warm, sweet liquid, wondering what on earth could make her feel so uneasy all of a sudden. The older woman hovered curiously, her eyes wide. Rowan glanced at her and forced another smile. "I'm waiting for my husband. He's just seeing to the horses. We're going to Holste."

The woman's eyes narrowed, but she looked slightly disappointed at this non-scandalous turn of events. "Holste, ye say?" She sniffed and took a sip from her own beaker, ignoring the whispers from her travelling mates behind her. "Not much at Holste but snow and drifts, this time of year. Ye should know better than to drag your bairn through this weather."

"My family live in Holste." Rowan told the only true part of her story quietly, knowing it was no excuse- none at all. This woman, annoying and prying as she was, was only trying to help. The baby couldn't stand much more of the cold, the walking through snow, the wet, the hunger. Every day seemed like the kicking was weaker, the dear heartbeat less obvious. As her womb grew heavier and her store of coins grew lighter, chilling fear for the bairn's life had possessed her. And somehow this woman knew it.

She looked up, knowing her eyes were filling with tears and not caring through her determination. "I'm going to Holste."

The woman looked shocked at causing this stranger to cry. "Hush hush now, pet, I didn't mean anything by it." When the girl didn't look any happier, she awkwardly patted her shoulder. "Now my girl, it may be I can help you. If you like, that is. We're going to Detmarn, that being the city near Holste, and you can travel with us if you like. More company, less distance, as I always say. Our path goes right past Holste." She excused herself the lie. For some reason she felt compelled to help this pathetic creature, even if it meant detouring fifty miles.

She could see the girl knew the lie, as well. Her eyes were wide and wondering, as if she had been blessed. She seemed to reach a decision, and blew her nose before speaking. "My husband isn't really here."

"I know, pet." The woman smiled. "Now, ye just dry your eyes, and we'll be going. You'll be with your family long before your time, I reckon. All will be well!" She patted her shoulder again and bustled away. Rowan smiled in wonderment, hardly hearing the complaints of the woman's travelling companions over her joy.

Then she remembered the feeling of dread.

And she suddenly knew that all would not be well.

All was very wrong indeed.

She had no idea what, or why, or who was causing the turmoil, but she was certain she knew where.

Something was very wrong in Holste.


	3. Chapter 2: Rats and Gods

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Chapter 2: Gods and Rats

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The dock was furiously busy. The sailors shouting to one another over the roar of the sea, the crates and sacks being hoisted onto ships, the creak of timber and the whipping of salt-soaked rope created an almost solid wall of sound. Messengers, from lowly cabin boys to Shang warriors, sped along the edge of the docks, slipping and falling in the spray, joining in the laughter as if they had not just almost tumbled over a thirty foot docking bay.

Cheerful songs sung in salt-dried voices rang through the noise, the words only just clear enough to make the younger workers blush and the older ones laugh. Women, their hands as calloused as their voices, called out suggestions for even worse lyrics as they plaited great coils of rope and stitched sails. No-one complained at the heavy workload or shivered in the cool Yamani winter breeze- all the men were good natured at their work, eager to end their country's isolation and join the thick of the fray.

Daine stared at the throng of people, her eyes awed. Despite her efforts to dress inconspicuously, people still peeled off from the crowd to stare at her, greet her in halting common, bow and run off. Most embarrassing of all, some would touch her arm and stare reverently at her, whispering a prayer to the gods, and flee. Ilane, the ambassador's wife, had shrugged uncomfortably when Daine asked why they did this.

"They think it's lucky. You've overcome enemies, sickness and the wrath of the Gods. You're a very lucky person! Some people believe they can catch good luck, like it was a cold. If someone in their family is sick, or something is wrong, many people go on pilgrimage to find a lucky person, to catch their luck."

Daine was amazed at this explanation, and embarrassed by the idea, but the pilgrims were few and far between, and she soon stopped worrying about offending them. But it was still very uncomfortable to have so many people interested in her!

The people at the docks, she was pleased to see, were cheerful, dedicated workers, not in the least interested in the plainly-dressed girl in the wide straw hat. A small shrine was set up in the middle of the dock, which people bowed to as they passed, but that seemed to be the extent of their reverence. It was the shrine she had come to visit.

She walked slowly up to the stone carving, awed at the love around it- sticks of incense, flowers and even small baskets of food were placed around the foot of the statue. A small boy stood nearby with a blunt pole, evidently employed to chase wharf rats away from the offerings.

The statue itself was of a tall, muscular man. He stood still in the stone, but he looked poised to move at any moment. Daine could imagine him drawing the massive stone bow he carried as easily as timber, and running as lightly as a feather on his heavy carven feet. Garlands of flowers were looped around his neck and the two horns that grew from his head. The delicate scented blossoms didn't make him look at all feminine or any less dangerous, the plants seeming to be as much a part of the God as the stone.

Daine stared at the carving, entranced, until the rat boy sidled up to her and extended a grubby hand. He jabbered a quick sentence in Yamani and bared his gappy teeth in what he thought was a winning smile.

The girl returned the smile and shook her head, opening her hands to show that she had nothing to offer the God. The boy's smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared- looking offended, he stomped back to his pole. Daine felt her lips twitch in amusement as she watched him disappear, then looked back at the statue.

It seemed to be looking at her, it's wild eyes looking into hers. She imagined it looked challenging. She paced in front of the image for a moment, wondering where to begin- the last time she'd prayed had been with her mother, in Galla, a lifetime ago. Every year they found branches of sweet apple wood and burned them in the front garden, letting the wind carry the gentle scent into the midsummer forest. Sarra closed her eyes and murmured a prayer, Daine copied her. She couldn't remember what she'd prayed for, her mind a blank after the gods ended Sarra's life and cursed her daughter.

And yet, here she was... and suddenly the stone statue seemed less brittle, more alive than even the sculptor's great skill could accomplish. Her memory of the god, surrounded by golden fire, filled in the blanks in the sculpture until it seemed to _live_.

"I know something happened," she murmured softly. She didn't bother to raise her voice above the cacophony- he was a god, she figured, he was either listening or he wasn't. The eyes remained blank. She carried on, "It's finished, and I'm fair grateful... but I want to know what happened. You made Numair promise not to tell, I bet, but there have been too many secrets between us. For his sake, and my own, I don't want another stupid mystery to get between us."

The statue didn't move. She didn't expect it to.

"This isn't a prayer, mind you. I don't pray. You know that. It's... a perfectly reasonable request."

No answer.

"And I'd like to know what happened to the Badger. The last time I saw him, he looked pretty beaten up." Daine glanced away from the statue, saw the rat boy peering at her curiously, and decided she'd said all that needed to be said. She bowed to the shrine with her hands folded in the Yamani style, and walked away.

The statue's eyes watched her go, glowing amber in the early morning light.

She got back to the ambassador's house by nine, hoping that no-one had noticed she'd gone. No such luck. Although she'd picked a day when she was sure none of the court ladies would be looking for her, a gilded carriage was sitting outside the front entrance. Daine groaned and headed for the servant's door, wondering how rude she'd have to be this time before the lady realised she wasn't going to tell "the tale."

The house cook pulled a face at her as she quietly slid the door shut, her thin face friendly and confiding, her Common almost perfect. "They've been looking for you."

Daine shrugged and commandeered a bread roll, breaking crumbs off it without appetite. The cook grinned. "If you want to waste some time, there's some vegetables need chopping in the cupboard." She waited until Daine had started happily working on this, then added, "I could tell them you were here all the time. They didn't look this time."

Daine smiled at her and shook her head. "They'll understand. I bet they want to get out of the house as much as I do, they're just too polite to go." She diced a potato easily, keeping an ear open in case someone came into the kitchen and caught her working. Her ears still rang from the last scolding Ilane had given her.

"Did you find the shrine alright?" The cook didn't wait for an answer, "My brother works on the docks and he swears that statue has brought his ship home through more storms than-"

"Daine!"

"You're in trouble now," the cook sang teasingly. Daine shook her head impatiently, her eyes sparkling as she ran out of the kitchen. Numair stood in the hall, arms folded angrily as he glared around the house. His expression became more resigned when he saw her plain clothes.

"Where did you go this time?" He demanded. The girl thought better of shrugging off the question again and told him the truth.

"I went to the docks. I wanted to see the shrine." She faltered. "You're not really angry with me, are you?"

He smiled and unfolded his arms, tugging his nose out of habit. "More worried, but I guess I should be used to it by now. You shouldn't really run off like that."

She sighed and scuffed the floor with her shoe, not looking up. "I know. I don't mean to! But we've been here weeks, and most of that stuck in this house talking to boring ladies about boring dresses and even more boring shoes, and you said I should get used to walking again after being asleep for so long..." She looked up and smiled at the amused exasperation on his face. "I wanted to see the sun."

"You are the sun," he said, smiling, and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around his back, trembling at the fire that burned wherever he touched her, the lightning that shot down her spine until she was breathless. She clung to him after they'd broken the kiss, adoring being close to him.

"You're the reason my legs go weak," she said mischievously. He shook his head.

"Oh no, you're not blaming me for being late this time." He said, mock-serious. "_I_ have an alibi."

She made a point of looking deliberately up and down the deserted corridor. "Not any more, you don't." She whispered, running her fingers through his hair. His eyes lost their playfulness and darkened intensely.

"They can wait a while longer." He breathed, and kissed her passionately, possessively. The hallway seemed to fade away until there was nothing but their love and the kiss, light and warmth and fire flowing through them keenly for an eternity and for too short a moment, until they were both helpless in the other's embrace.

"Not interrupting anything, am I?" An accented voice quipped playfully. Daine sighed, still lost in the kiss, then realised where she was and blushed furiously. Numair rolled his eyes and glared at Ged.

"I tactfully made enough noise to wake the dead, but you didn't seem to hear me." The Yamani warrior said, not seeming at all embarrassed by the encounter. "Did you know that Piers has been wanting to talk to you for over an hour?"

"No," they said together, too quickly. Ged raised an eyebrow.

"Doesn't time just fly. Well, they sent me to find you." He waved cheerfully and began to walk easily down the corridor. Numair hesitated, then called after him.

"Ged! I'm sorry I didn't hear you!"

The man's hands flew up in an expression of disbelief. "Are you joking? If _I _was kissing her, I wouldn't be sorry if I missed the entire war!" He winked at the expression on the mage's face and blew a kiss to Daine.

"Dear gods, he doesn't mean that." Daine said fervently. Numair scowled down the corridor, absently smoothing his hair.

"He'd better not." He growled.


	4. Chapter 3: Rowan's Homecoming

A/N: Just a short chapter today, been filling in my university application form so haven't had time to write. If you're in the mood for guessing games, there are a lot of clues in this chapter as to who Rowan is... grins

I won't tell you if you guess it right or wrong, you'll find out in thinks about five chapters. Ok?

888

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Chapter 3: Rowan's Homecoming

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The last mile of the journey seemed to pass by in an instant, far too quickly, as if the obstinate trudge of the mountain ponies had risen to a gallop. The closer they got to Holste, the darker the foreboding seemed to grow, until the whole world was panic-black and snow-white.

Rowan wondered why on earth no-one else could taste the coppery doom in the air, how they could force themselves to keep walking through the syrup-thick air. They were as cheerful as they'd been for the whole week of travel, piled into the large wooden caravan as it teetered along mountain paths, cheerfully taking out their shovels when the passes were blocked by snow, and laughing more than talking.

When the passes were clear they sat inside the cart, singing to a rough lute and passing beer or mead to the driver. Rowan imagined she could feel the cart swaying drunkenly too, after a few days of this. But at least it was warm, and dry, and her aching feet could rest. Her paltry bag of winter vegetables and supplies lay in the corner, untouched, while she lived from her host's hospitality. The next time she thought to look at it, she could swear it was heavier. When she picked it up to leave the cart, she was certain of it.

The lady who had first talked to her, Sheila, glanced at the thin, meandering path critically. Rowan smiled in what she thought was a comforting way.

"It looks a long way, but I only need to go halfway up. You see that outcrop of stone, near all the pine trees? Holste is there."

"Detmarn is nicer." The woman squinted at the outcrop, "Don't they even have fires there?"

Rowan glanced at the land behind the stone, looking for tell-tale signs of smoke, but the grey snow hid them, as it always had. "It's bigger than it looks."

"And your family- your husband- they live there?" The woman demanded for the hundredth time. Rowan nodded absently, still trying to pick out plumes of smoke. Sheila sighed and scratched her head. "I don't like leaving ye like this."

Rowan pulled her worried eyes from the village and looked at the woman, gratitude shining in the green depths. "Thank ye so much for everything..." she rested her palm on her stomach, "And the bairn says thank ye, too.

Sheila smiled crookedly. "No problem. There but for the grace of the Gods... as I always say. I'll pray for ye, and the bairn."

"Thank ye," she whispered, genuinely touched. The woman hugged her, then turned back towards the caravan.

"We're coming back this way in spring! We'll visit ye!" She called, climbing into the wagon. Rowan smiled and waved, and the caravan slowly disappeared.

And that was that.

The path crawled endlessly towards the outcrop, slick with ice and slush. She could remember every step of it, could remember running up it in the summer- but now every footstep seemed to slip, and the chill wind tore across the exposed tundra like a thousand knives. The warmth and companionship of the caravan had disappeared, seemed years away, although when she looked down she could see the cart trundling away across the pass.

And the foreboding remained, as piercing as the wind.

She almost laughed with relief when she rounded the corner and saw Holste, looking as cheerful and unremarkable as it ever had. Scrubby pines circled the village on two sides; the others were shielded by the rocks and by the side of the mountain. Simple wooden houses, warm lights at their windows, stood in neat streets that curved around the outside of the circular town centre. The stones disappeared outside the square, the paths simple trodden tracks among the shelter of the trees and houses. No snow reached the ground; the well-trodden paths had been crushed into frozen mud. People scurried from house to house, or to the small market place, intent on getting out of the cold. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary...

Her house was right on the outskirts of the town, almost hidden by the stack of timber used for communal fuel. She trudged towards it gladly, longing to warm her hands by the fire, to breathe the sweet scent of pine...

She skirted the timber and stopped. The house was quiet, far too quiet. There was no golden light at the window. Her family were gone. She took a step closer and blanched. The door had been forced. Scuffed footprints were fossilised in the frozen mud. A window pane was smashed.

They weren't just gone- someone had dragged them away.

"Sweet goddess," she whispered. But the shock didn't come, the nauseating fear and worry had passed with the premonition of danger. She had known something was wrong, but not _this._

She stepped into the house numbly. It was a hollow shell; what hadn't been stolen had been destroyed. Dust piled up in the corners.

_Mama would hate that,_ she thought distantly, _she always kept the house so clean..._

She didn't know why she was so upset. Her family had been expecting something like this to happen for years. After her oldest sister had married, and left home, savagely carving her own path, they realised they were no longer safe in the quiet mountain village.

As soon as the daily fear became too much to bear, her parents had sent all their children away. Her brothers had gone to work in the bronze mines near Detmarn, taking the little girls with them. Working in the cold, dank pits was better than anything else they could offer them.

She and her younger sister had quickly found husbands and new lives in different towns- close enough to still feel like they had a family, far away enough that no-one knew the Secret.

And so, in their own ways and in their own places, they had waited with baited breath for the inevitable to happen. They jumped at every footstep, flinched at raised voices, and never, ever talked about magic. They simply waited.

And nothing happened. For four years, nothing had happened. Surely, they wrote to one another, this means that people have forgotten? They began to talk of meeting up, seeing how the strangers they called kin had changed. When Rowan wrote that she was pregnant, her mother had instantly sent back the letter she carried close to her heart: _Come home, and have your baby with your family. _

So she made the long journey home. She had started with joy in her tired heart, longing to see everyone again. She wondered coldly if anyone else was still alive, or if they had been dragged away, too. Somehow, she didn't think she would see any of them again.

And somehow, when she was sitting comfortably in a rough inn sipping mead, the unthinkable had happened.


	5. Chapter 4: The Swoop

A/N: Very short chapter today- got a lot of things to introduce and wasn't sure what order to write them in, so I spent more time worrying than writing. headdesk

Thanks for all your reviews and critique so far:D

888

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Chapter 4: The Swoop

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Alanna walked through the empty streets of her home, feeling numb. The simple homecoming she'd been yearning for during her homesick, seasick weeks in Carthak and during the voyage was shattered, buried in the slippery grey mud as solidly as the dead of Pirate's Swoop. She caught herself stumbling several times as she gazed about for someone to speak to. A gasp found her a thin, scarred woman, old and nearly toothless, who gaped at the knight and stared greedily at the travelling bag she had slung on her shoulder.

"Are you hungry?" Asked Alanna. The woman's eyes lit up as she produced a block of cheese from her bag. She ripped away the oiled cloth and devoured it in four large bites, mumbling her thanks.

"What happened here?" the Lioness asked gently. The woman looked very pointedly back at the bag. Alanna shook her head, biting back her impatience."There's more food on the boat. Tell me what happened first."

The woman scowled, but told her...

As far as Alanna could gather from the garbled account of one of the survivors, the plague had attacked the town first. People who looked fine one moment would collapse at their work, sleeping as deeply as death as swelling sores grew on their faces and their fever soared. By the time they woke up, the pain from the sores and weakness from the sleeping sickness meant they were too frail to fight the fever. And so they died. The blue paint Alanna had seen from the boat were healers' signs, scrawled rapidly on the door and obviously useless; she'd seen the town healer's grave marker among the rest.

Anxiously, she asked the woman what had happened to her family. The woman blinked up at her, her face swollen by scars from the sickness and tears. She'd reassured the knight that she was well- that she hadn't fallen asleep, just contacted the fever and rash, and her family had kept her well. Alanna wouldn't have cared if the woman was on death's door as long as she had news- but she nodded encouragingly as the crone continued the story, not trusting her voice to speak.

As soon as the people in the keep realised how deadly the sickness was, they had left the Swoop to protect themselves. Alanna felt a twinge of pride when the scarred crone mumbled how George had isolated those who had been exposed to the plague quickly, giving the uninfected people in the village the money to get away and live for a while outside their homes. The sick, the weak, and those too old to travel had been left behind. As far as the woman knew, the Lady Alanna's family were well and safe, and travelling North.

"Why North?" Alanna croaked, "Why didn't they go to Myles, or to one of the other keeps?"

"Didn't know if they had the plague. Didn't want to risk other people's lives." The woman muttered, rocking from foot to foot nervously. Alanna forced herself to smile and handed the woman a handful of coins, thanking her for the story. Biting the inside of her cheek, she stood in the muddy street and stared numbly towards the North.

If they had set off a fortnight ago, as this woman said, then they might have reached the mountains by now. But they couldn't travel very fast, not with the children...

_You're supposed to be going to __Scanra_She scolded herself,

_This is more important. _She thought strongly. The chivalrous knight part of her mind seemed to sigh in irritation.

_They're with George. He can look after them, and you know it. You have a duty! It's bad enough Numair running off, without you doing the same thing..._

_And what if George is sick? _She demanded, not aware that she was scowling in irritation at her own mind. The knight-mind shrugged uncomfortably.

_They're doing the right thing, and you know it. You should do the right thing, too. _

Alanna gritted her teeth and absently checked that her sword was loose in its sheath. _I am going to do the right thing. _

_Jon will be furious. _Said the knight uncertainly. Grim, sarcastic amusement replaced the numbness.

_It's a plan with no downside, then. _

_It'll be snowing. _

_One downside._She amended. The knight-mind folded its arms and scowled, but was quiet. Alanna walked back down to the boat, forcing herself to smile at the sailors who looked at her uneasily, curious enough about the town to risk the Lionesses' infamous anger by asking...

"What happened here, ma'am?"

She looked up, her eyes sharpening as she looked at the supplies they'd brought with them. "Unload three crates onto the pier, and then take the rest to the army."

"We usually deliver right to the town..." one of the braver sailors began. "And the town is only designated two..."

"Just do what I say!" She yelled, snapping finally. "There's sickness in the town! Be my guest if you want to catch the plague and die, but leave some food for the people that are still alive!"

They recoiled from her, looking from side to side uneasily as if they could see the disease being carried on dark wings in the wind. Abruptly, without saying another word, they started unloading crates and making hastily ready to cast off.

Unnoticed and unmissed in the turmoil, Alanna quietly walked back to the town. A thin snort led her to a grubby stable, where a skinny horse was dully pulling at the filthy hay that surrounded it. She gently slung a saddle onto it's back and found a bag of oats in a high shelf. The horse gulped the food down, still skittering slightly under the weight of the saddle on it's protruding spine.

"I'll fatten you up before I have to ride you, I promise." Said the woman, rapidly checking the fastenings on the harness and tying her travel bag to the saddle. The horse snorted, but settled down at her voice. Alanna led it out of the stable, wincing at how mangy and starved the horse looked in the grey winter light.

"You better be fast, Horse." She muttered, and started marching towards the North.


	6. Chapter 5: Sailing

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Chapter 5: Sailing

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They had been on the ship four days before she found the courage to speak to him. At first it was easy to avoid him- the whirlwind of activity as people settled into seafaring life, the strict daily routine and the easy forming of new friendships completely filled her time.

Even before they got on the ship, the preparations had filled every waking moment. Messengers and diplomats called at all hours of the day to check one last detail, to deliver one last letter. Plans and goods were decided upon and rejected, crates were packed and re-packed, one thing after another until suddenly they were standing at the dock, and Piers was wishing them a good journey.

Daine ignored the formal speech, so similar to the hundreds she must have heard over the past week, until Ilane interrupted her husband.

"What we mean to say is... it's been very _interesting_ meeting you." She bowed, her eyes twinkling with humour. "You've done more for Tortall in a month than we could in years. Are you sure we can't convince you to stay here with us?"

Her expression remained playful, but her eyes were bright as if she were holding back tears. Daine suddenly felt guilty for running away from the house as often as she had. It must have been very embarrassing for this proper court lady, yet she never said a bitter word. She had treated the strangers as well as her own family, and now they were simply leaving, never to come back.

"Thank you," Daine said abruptly, wanting to say more- _thank you for trusting us, thank you for helping us..._ but the words seemed choked in her throat. Ilane smiled gently, interpreting her expression correctly.

"It was truly a pleasure meeting you, Daine." She leaned closer, lowering her voice as the men said their farewells beside them. "You should know that if you ever need a home, you're welcome here."

Daine smiled a reply, genuinely touched. When the ship pulled away from the dock, the two ambassadors waved and smiled until it was out of sight.

And now, four days later, she was standing on the deck, leaning on the rail and watching the sun rising over the cobalt sea. She had spent the last ten minutes trying to steel herself to talk to Ged. She found herself becomingly intensely embarrassed every time they passed each other in the corridor, wanting to talk to him- although mainly to apologise to him. The problem was, she had nearly no people-skills. For years she hadn't been allowed to speak out of turn, and to instigate a conversation was nearly beyond her.

This might not have been a problem if Ged had stayed the way he was in the Yamani Islands, cheerful and joking, but he seemed to have withdrawn into himself, at least when she was around. He and Numair had become friends, and he'd been acting cheerfully enough around other people. Daine smiled mockingly- maybe he was having the same problem she was, too uncomfortable to apologise...

"What's funny?" Said a voice. She jumped and looked up. Ged was leaning against the rail next to her, watching her curiously. She flushed, feeling guilty in case her thoughts had been written across her face.

"You snuck up on me." She said, wishing her voice didn't sound so accusing. Ged smiled lazily, the expression seeming slightly sarcastic.

"If I'd wanted to do that, I wouldn't have said anything, would I?" He jibed. His expression became more serious. "Now, you knew I come up here to train every morning. And yet you're here. So would you like to tell me why?"

"I... wanted to talk to you."

He smiled, another expression that didn't seem completely genuine. "What about?"

She stared at the deck. "To say I'm sorry. I know I cheated when we fought, otherwise you would have won. You must have been angry when the Emperor made you yield, it must have been humiliating. I'm really sorry."

He stared at her, his eyes emotionless. "To be honest, I don't remember much about it. All I can remember is Lord Hunter appearing, and the anger and the hate..." he stopped and coughed, breaking off the sentence. "Anyway, there's no need to apologise. There's no rule against tricks in battle, just no magic. If it makes you feel better, you can apologise for the rather dashing scar I've got on my foot." He smiled, dismissing the hurt easily. Daine smiled back, relaxing slightly.

"Alright then, I'm sorry for hurting your foot."

"Apology accepted. I'll show off the scar to the ladies and tell them I won it in a valiant fight against a dragon." He grinned, then bowed and said seriously, "I'm sorry for hurting your shoulder."

"Apology accepted." She returned the grin. "That was easier than I thought it would be."

Ged leaned back against the rail, suddenly distant again. "Only because it was the simplest thing you wanted to say." He sighed and scratched at a peeling splinter in the wooden bar. "I would imagine that the next thing you want to talk about is Lord Hunter."

Daine started, but didn't comment on this sudden knowledge. Instead, she hesitantly said, "He's your patron God, right?"

"Yes, he visits me in my dreams." He didn't notice her flinch, gazing gloomily out to sea and flicking the splinter into the waves. "Just lately, he has had a lot to say."

"Can you tell me what, or are you sworn to secrecy as well?" She said, not noticing the bitterness in her own voice. Ged shrugged uncomfortably.

"He speaks of you. He asks that we protect you. He says there is a great danger coming."

He hesitated, not looking around. "Daine, I know how angry he was. I was consumed by his rage until it felt like my skin was burning. I have never been so angry in my life. And the hatred was so strong, so bitter, it was like poison in my soul. I have never hated anyone as much as he hated you. And now... it's like he's forgotten he was ever angry. He is only concerned for you."

"I know. I don't understand it, either." She said quietly, shivering at his description of the anger that had nearly killed her. "That's why I'm trying to find out what happened."

"Well, in that case I don't know why you bothered talking to me. I don't know what happened." He said, his voice sharp as if she were asking the impossible. "The only person who knows is the God, and he never reveals his intent to us lowly mortals."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you," she said, surprised by this rapid mood swing. Ged started to say something, then stopped and made a noncommittal gesture, returning the false smile to his face.

"If he does tell me what changed his mind, I'll tell you, I promise."

They stood in silence for a while, each returning to their own thoughts, watching the sun creep towards them over the waves. Ged drummed his fingers against the rail, obviously not interested in the sunrise.

"You know I don't hate you anymore, right?" He said abruptly, breaking the silence painfully quickly. Daine glanced at him, puzzled.

"I didn't think you did. I thought we were friends." She replied. The man shook his head frustratedly and tried again.

"That's not what I meant-"

"I know what you meant." She cut in as kindly as she knew how, feeling her stomach sink at the expression on his face. "We're friends, Ged. I'm sorry, but that's all we'll ever be."

His face hardly moved, returning to bitter indifference. Turning away from her, he shrugged once, as if shaking off all emotion, and began a Shang pattern dance.

She left the deck quickly, cursing herself for going out there in the first place, for missing the meaning behind his embarrassment. She hated it when people _complicated_ things! And now she felt sorry for him, and even _more_ embarrassed.

And she still hadn't got a straight answer about the God!

She was halfway back to the cabin, still seething furiously, when the shouting began.


	7. Chapter 6: Bronzers

A/N: Updates might slow up considerably this winter- I've got to do some serious clarinet practice for university. I'm trying to get as much writing done as possible now before my nose meets the grindstone, but it might read as a little rushed. So, I PROMISE to read and reformat all of this story (and the end of Forest) after Christmas, so if you guys notice any serious mistakes or anything you think is missing, PLEASE tell me. :) Thanks!

888

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Chapter 6: Bronzers

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Rowan idly wondered why she wasn't unhappy. She had forced the sickening darkness of fear and rage away after her initial shock, and it seemed to have left for good. Her mind was telling her how terrible everything was, how she should be screaming- but she couldn't. She couldn't feel anything, almost as if the snow that numbed her hands had crept inside her heart. And so it was that she shed not one tear for her family, even though her heart knew they were dead.

The reason, she knew, was that simple survival was coursing through her veins. Winter was here, raging pitilessly against her, and she must survive it. She had to be strong for herself, for her bairn. And, surprisingly, forgetting the sorrow had been surprisingly easy.

Now, as she cleared the shattered remains of the house up as fast as her swollen feet would let her move, she found herself coolly taking stock of all that needed to be done. The ragged holes in the walls and windows could be patched up with wood from the pile- she could simply stack it into the gaps until she could buy or barter some nails from the villagers. The door was more difficult- she supposed she could find pine branches and rely on their spreading needles to keep out the snow, but eventually she'd have to make a new door- and that meant spending money on tools. And that meant less food.

She cleared the hearth and started a fire from the pile of wood that had been a table. As the wood sank to embers, she started blocking the worst of the gaps in the walls. The wind stopped howling through the gaps, and the ice hanging from the roof began to drip down to the floor, stirring the dirt into grey mud.

Rowan sat on the floor in front of the fire, staring at the flames and not feeling their warmth. As much as she wanted to cry, to scream, her frozen heart was coldly telling her what she should do. What the only thing she could do was.

She had a month. That was long enough.

Before she could get too used to the heat, she threw her shawl over her shoulders and headed for the market.

The shop she was heading for was less busy than some of the others, not having exotic luxuries like fish or autumn berries to offer. The shutters over the windows were closed uninvitingly, not letting a chink of light through despite their tattered appearance. Unperturbed, Rowan pushed open the door uninvited and went in, almost reeling at the wall of heat that poured out.

The room was incredibly cluttered. Stacks of odd items were piled in stacks on the tables and on the dusty floor, making the shop almost like a maze. There was no order to the items- one table might have a pile of dusty clothes, another rusted weapons, a third might have a mixture of pinecones and old animal bones. This was not a place where browsing was encouraged.

"I heard ye open the door, ye know!" A soft voice called out sharply from behind a stack of musty wolf pelts. "Don't ye go anywhere near my stuff!"

"It's me," Rowan said, her voice hoarse from the biting cold outside. She cleared her throat and started again, "It's Rowan- Rowan Coreen, Aunt Sara. I need some supplies."

The pile of skins was suddenly silent, as if someone was holding their breath in surprise. Aunt Sara was not easily shocked.

Of course she wasn't really an aunt. Everyone in the village called her "Aunt". It never really seemed strange to act like the person you spat at in the street was a member of your family... Rowan hadn't understood herself, until she had seen the Bronzers for the first time.

The group of men strolled easily into the village, looking gaudy and overdressed in their grand robes. They smiled and laughed with one another, looking friendly enough, but for some reason all the adults in the village were terrified as soon as they approached. Her own mother had gathered her children together rapidly and shooed them back into the house, not answering their complaints as she interrupted their play. Rowan bore it in silence, then made the excuse of using the privy and crept out. Her mother, busy with the younger girls, hadn't noticed.

She had been eight years old, and her childish curiosity had nearly gotten her killed .

She had hidden behind the wood pile, staring into the forest until her eyes burned, listening greedily to every word they spoke as the wind brought them to her ears. She saw what they did, not really understanding or caring, just curious until one of the Bronzers turned around and saw her. His angry shouting turned her curiosity into cold terror- she must have done something terrible. Before they could run after her, she fled back to the house and hid under the bed.

Her mother was furious, yelling at her with tears in her eyes when she was sure the Bronzers were gone. Her father had beaten her angrily, but with the same odd expression on his face. It wasn't until the next time she saw Aunt Sara in the street that she realized how lightly she had got off.

Now, fifteen years later, Aunt Sara's wounds were healed. She could speak again, her voice rough but mellow. She could walk again. Her mind was a sharp as it ever had been. And every day in her prayers she thanked the gods for treating her kindly, for letting her live. Not many people were so lucky when the Breakers found them.

"Rowan." She said quietly, all the sharpness gone from her voice, the words less strongly bathed in the mountain accent as if she were a different person. "Why are ye here? Ye shouldn't be here."

"I wanted supplies...and to speak to..." Rowan started, then stopped as the woman appeared from around the pile of skins. Her scarred face was twisted in anger.

"Ye stupid girl! Ye've been home, yes? Ye've seen what's happened, yes?" She hardly waited for the other woman to nod, walking through the stacks of faded merchandise with surprising grace. "Then why are ye here? Ye should have turned around and gone back where ye came from! Are ye so stupid ye don't know they'll come after ye, too?"

"I know, Aunt Sara, but..." she started soothingly, but the woman hadn't finished her tirade.

"Your mother sent ye away so you'd be safe! What were ye thinking, to come back here?"

"Where else could I go?" Rowan demanded. Aunt Sara blinked, then for the first time took in the younger woman's swollen stomach. She groaned and leaned against the table.

"Ye are stupid, ye know. Why did ye have to go and get yourself pregnant?"

"My husband wanted-"

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." She frowned at the floor as if it were the dust's fault this stupid girl had come into her home. "Where is your precious husband, then?"

"He's dead." She replied bluntly, without a hint of remorse. Aunt Sara glanced at her sharply, but didn't say anything else. She made her way to the back of the shop and began pulling packets out of a cupboard, throwing them into one of the pelts and folding it over them.

"What are ye planning to do? Stay here until the Bronzers come back?"

Rowan drew a deep breath. "They've been here recently, right?" She waited for the other woman to nod, then carried on, "They haven't seen me in years- they won't know about the baby, and they won't be back for a few months yet."

"But, ye won't be able to travel in the winter with a baby that young." Aunt Sara said dismissively. "The best thing ye could do it go away, far away from here, try to make it to the plains before ye have the baby, and then keep travelling in the spring."

"And be running all my life?" She said scornfully, "What life is that for a baby?"

"Then, what? You're going to stay here?"

Rowan watched her carefully as she tied a string around a bag of rusted nails. She brought out her purse and dropped a few coins on the table for the supplies, which Aunt Sara scooped up without a word. The price was far too small, and they both knew it.

"Aunt Sara- they don't know about the bairn. If I have the baby before they come back, couldn't ye look after it? Pretend it's yours?" She didn't let the pleading sound into her voice, desperate though she was for this woman to accept. "No-one would know who it was apart from ye, and the baby would be safe."

Aunt Sara watched her impassively, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. "And, what? You're going to leave forever?"

Rowan glared at her, feeling the ice in her heart melting into cold, sick rage. "_No_. Those bastards killed my family. I'm going to do everything I can to stop them killing my child."

Aunt Sara sighed and handed over the bundle of goods. "Pray that ye die in childbirth. It'll be less painful." She ignored the expression on the younger woman's face, retreating back into the depths of her shop. "I'll look after your child for you when you're dead."


	8. Chapter 7: Screaming

A/N: This is a very short update- I'm sorry. :(

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Chapter 7: Screaming

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_The first person fell. _

This man was very dead. His neck had snapped when he landed on the deck, the wood groaning from the impact. A crowd of people were gathered around him, their faces pale as they stared upwards.

The dead man had been up in the rigging, typing back ropes from the sails neatly and checking the horizon. His face was young, but his wildly thrown out hands were calloused as if he'd worked on a ship his whole life.

"Certainly," said the people who'd seen him fall, sailors working on the deck or warriors practicing pattern dances, "he seemed very confident. Not afraid of falling. Just doing his work. And then...

...well, we don't really know why he fell. "

The captain frowned at the body, and then glared at the rigging. He barked a command in Yamani and the cabin boy scurried up the rigging, looking carefully about for cut ropes or slippery handholds- anything that might have made the man fall.

Nothing was found.

"No-one pushed him, he simply fell," they said.

The captain scowled even more, this time in annoyance at the man's clumsiness. The people began to drift away, the sailors to find a cloth to wrap the body in, the warriors back to their morning exercises. The ship returned to its normal state of quiet industry, even if it was slightly subdued. Some spoke in quiet voices of how it boded badly for the journey, such an accident happening so soon in the voyage. They began to speculate about whether the ship was unlucky, or cursed.

And then the second person fell.

The young cabin boy, climbing down from the rigging, pressed a hand to his forehead as if he were dizzy. He climbed more carefully back onto the deck and leaned against the side, looking puzzled. He took two steps before he collapsed, simply keeling over without a word.

The captain cursed this time, but genuine worry was beginning to show on his face. He strode over and picked up the boy himself, shaking him to wake him up. The boy hung limply. The ship's doctor was found and rushed to the deck, but by the time he reached them they didn't need him to tell them there was something seriously wrong.

Great sores appeared and darkened on the boy's face and hands, seeming to grow before their eyes. He moaned, his eyes still closed as if he were dreaming, his dusky skin breaking out in sweat.

The captain gulped and met the doctor's eyes. Sickness anywhere was bad, but on a ship it could destroy more rapidly than a fire. If a few men were sick, the healthy ones would be paranoid, would lose their morale, wouldn't work as a team, and the ship might founder. If many were sick, then the ship would simply drift for lack of hands.

And disease spreads quickly on a ship.

Without even consulting the doctor, he gave the order. "As soon as land is spotted, we stop. The nearest coast should be directly east." He looked up into rows of frightened eyes. "What are you all staring at? Go!"

Daine watched them running, frowning in confusion. She couldn't understand what they were saying, but when the boy collapsed she realised something was badly wrong. She wondered what the captain had said to the other sailors to put them into such a state of panic. She thought about going to ask Ged, then dismissed the thought impatiently. Other people could speak common; she'd just wait until one of them told her.

She looked at the boy, who they'd left lying on the deck while they were busy with their tasks. He was only about nine years old. The doctor had glanced at him and left, presumably to find some medicine or something.

She walked up to him and knelt, wondering if they even cared about him. He lay where the captain had gently dropped him before shouting at the sailors- sprawled on his side in the puddles that formed most of the deck. Now they were further south, the puddles were icing over slightly, and his head rocked from side to side with the motion of the boat.

She pulled off her cloak and folded it, slipping it under his head like a pillow. He didn't seem to notice. As soon as she touched him, she heard the noise. It was so loud and piercing that she didn't realise at first that it sounded like someone screaming- harsh and shrill, full of fear and pain. She gasped and looked around the ship, wondering who was hurt so badly they would scream like that.

None of the sailors seemed to have noticed. They carried on with their jobs, glancing indifferently at her as she stared at them. She bit her lip and looked back at the boy, sliding her hand from under his head. As soon as she took her hand away, the screaming stopped.

Hesitantly, she touched his shoulder. The screaming started again, but this time it seemed slightly quieter, as if she had built a wall against it. She listened to it intently, trying to work out where it was coming from.

It didn't seem to have a direction. She realised with amazement that she couldn't hear it with her ears at all- it screamed in her mind, as if it were Cloud or one of the People speaking to her. She looked up at this thought, wondering if there was an animal hurt anywhere nearby.

_-Are you hurt? Where are you__?-_She called silently. As soon as she thought the words, the screaming stopped. In the absolute silence, the boy moaned, his eyes fluttering open. He whispered something in Yamani, one hand creeping up to cover one ear protectively.

"You can hear it?" She asked, with her voice and her mind. The boy blinked at her, not understanding, but nodded when she covered her ear with her free hand. They both flinched when the screaming suddenly started again, biting through their ears like a physical blow. The boy's eyes rolled back in his head and he passed out. The screaming grew louder and shriller until she pulled her hand away from the boy's arm, fighting the useless urge to cover her ears.

"What's wrong? Did he fall?" Numair asked, kneeling beside her. Daine smiled a greeting to him, but shook her head.

"No... I _think_ he's sick. But it's the strangest thing..." she hesitated, "Touch his arm."

Numair gave her an odd look, but reached out and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder. "He's feverish?" He said uncertainly. Daine shook her head again, impatiently.

"You don't hear anything?" She demanded.

"No. You do?" He asked, and then held up a hand to stop her replying, his eyes narrowing. Slowly, he took his hand from the boy's arm and studied his fingers, rubbing them together as if they were covered in something sticky. "He's absolutely covered in magic. It must be someone else's, he doesn't have the gift..." Frowning, he glanced over to the other side of the ship, where the dead sailor's body lay still amongst the bustle. The sailors were keeping themselves almost obsessively busy, trying to avoid the captain's eye, the two strange mages and each other at all costs. The morale had already sickened.

"I think..." he started.

"Excuse me, you cannot be here," Said a nervous voice quickly. The ship's doctor, a skinny, shy looking man, was standing a respectful distance away, a medical box clutched in his hands. His eyes were cloudy and his hair was rough, as if he'd just woken up. But his expression was perfectly alert- barely concealed fear as he kept glancing at the sick boy. "This could be the start of sickness. You don't want to be sick. Please go."

"But..." Daine began, then stopped as Numair gave her a warning look.

"How do you think they'd react, if you told them someone had sent a magical plague to make them sick?" He asked quietly as they walked away. Daine swallowed and glanced back at the doctor, who was now examining the boy tentatively.

"Is that what it is?" She asked, just as quietly.

Numair stared at the green waves crashing at the side of the ship, his dark eyes bleak. "I truly hope not."


	9. Chapter 8: Foraging

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Chapter 8: Foraging

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Rowan spent the rest of the week in the house, patching it up as best she could. By the end of each day her hands were red with cold and calluses, and her back ached from hauling around wood. The damp hearth spat and steamed for the first few nights, every harsh sound making her jump until she finished the new door and bolted it firmly closed. The new shutters she built for the windows were crude- thick slabs of wood nailed together. They were too heavy to be held up by the hinges she'd carved clumsily with her belt knife, so she simply nailed them across the gaps. By the end of the week, the house was transformed into a wooden fortress, dark, airless and safe.

Rowan woke up on the eighth morning and looked around the tiny room. The fire had fled into the embers overnight, and only cold grey light shone through the chimney to illuminate the house. Cold, dark and dusty, each scrap of furniture sacrificed to the walls or the fire, the house was more like a coffin than a home. Her mother would be ashamed.

She thought of walking into the town, of buying a spare blanket and some crude furniture, but decided against it. She had hardly any money left- the few copper coins remaining were for food- and the people of the town preferred to ignore her than risk their necks at the hands of the Bronzers. It was a price they paid for peace, and Rowan couldn't blame them for it...

_...although, this past week, the bitterness had risen in her throat when she passed their cheerfully lit windows, when she heard them laughing with their families. The looks of pity were only slightly more welcome than the scowls of disgust and fear that twisted the faces of people she had gone to school with. The Bronzers congratulated the townspeople for their sacrifice each time they visited, but now she thought on it..._

_No._ She shook her head violently, trying to rid her mind of these uncharitable thoughts. _Mother would be ashamed.__ So what if they would rather see the bairn freeze or starve than help me? It's not their fault. They're afraid. _

Rowan realised she was scowling at the dead fire without seeing it, while ice bloomed inside the house. She sighed her bitterness away and dug into the kindling basket, blowing on the cherry-red embers until the dry twigs caught. As she built up the fire, she decided that today she must venture into the forest. She could find ferns and snagged goat-wool for bedding, and maybe winter berries and edible bark. She could cope fine without the townspeople, and she could prove it to herself.

Smiling with her new resolve, excited at the thought of leaving the coffin-house, she threw Aunt Sara's pelt over her shoulders and strode out of the house. The fire was crackling brightly- by the time she got back it would be warm and dry, and she would make it into a home.

The trek into the forest was familiar, a route she and her sisters had often taken at a run just a few years ago. Now her feet were swollen and her back ached, but she still smiled at the winter sun. The blizzards of the last few days had disappeared and the wind was nothing but a crisp breeze, pulling powdery snow from the evergreen branches and scattering it. There were few ferns in this part of the forest, and nothing to forage, so Rowan kept walking.

The further she got from the village, the more she relaxed. Without realising it, she walked almost to the pass to Detmarn before she found anything worth collecting. The curling young ferns were almost hidden under the snow, but their sharp bitter-sweet tang hung on the frozen air like perfume. Rowan gathered armfuls of them, tying them into bundles with stronger fronds until they were nearly too heavy to carry. She was so engrossed in this task that she didn't hear the crunching footsteps until they were too close to hide from.

The man wore the light furs of a tracker and the confident expression of a Bronzer. Despite the heavy snow he was leaving very few prints, treading on the frozen part of the snow or the stones. He was walking along the pass-track, an expression of delight spreading over his features as he saw her. He waved cheerfully.

It wasn't until he was much closer that she saw the tattoo along one cheek. She spun around and tripped over the ferns in her haste to get away, making the man laugh. He didn't drop his cheerful tone.

"Rowan, isn't it?" He didn't ask her if she was alright, or offer to help her up, he simply studied her with narrowed eyes. "Looks like you've got yourself into trouble there, girl."

Rowan didn't say anything, paralyzed with fear. The man smiled, the tattoo on his cheek folding with the gesture. "We've been looking for you, you know." He gestured vaguely at the pass. Her lack of response seemed to annoy him. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her upright, grunting with the effort. "What a surprise to see you here!"

"Let go of me." She said quietly, each word trembling. She hoped he thought it was from the cold rather than the fear, although his grin said otherwise.

"You're lucky," he whispered, mockingly confiding. "I just finished the last job I was sent to do, so I don't _have_ to let go of you at all!" He nodded in the direction of the pass. "I was sent to follow that stranger, see where she went... but she's just keeled over, so I guess she's not a problem anymore!"

Rowan glanced at the pass involuntarily. There _was_ a shape there, crumpled up, but it could just be a boulder or a fallen tree. He could just be trying to scare her.

"Didn't you help her?" She asked, then interrupted herself. "No, of course you didn't. It's not your job, right?"

"Are you living off the forest? You'll freeze." He said dispassionately, breaking her flow of thought.

"What do you care?" She demanded. He shrugged.

"The Bronzers want to speak to you. They're very hurt that you keep running away- you and your family. It makes you look very... suspicious." He looked uncomfortable for a moment, and then shrugged again. "You can't talk to them if you're dead."

"I won't talk to them at all!" She hissed, and slashed wildly at him with her belt knife. He looked surprised as deep red dripped from his chest, blinking at her in confusion.

"But..." he said before his eyes faded. She stood over him for a moment with the knife out, willing him to make another move, then wiped the blade on the snow and sheathed it. Tears dripped from her eyes and froze painfully on her cheeks as she began to scoop snow over the body.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "But you didn't understand." She wiped her eyes and stood back from the mound of snow. "They'll find you in the spring, but by then it won't be a problem anymore."

The corpse didn't answer her. She didn't expect it to.

She was halfway back to the ferns before she remembered the other woman. Sighing, already weary beyond belief, she trudged down the pass and checked the mound, hoping it was a rock. Hoping that the corpse had lied.

It was a middle-aged woman. Rowan approached her cautiously, trying to see if she was armed, or breathing. Her clothes were in a different style to the simple woollen mountain clothes, seeming to be cut more for freedom of movement than for warmth. And then, she wore too many layers of clothes for the mountains- the extra weight must have slowed her down through the blizzard. She also looked like she hadn't eaten in a while- probably missed the hidden villages that found shelter along the pass. Her clothes looked travel stained, as if she had been travelling for a long time- probably through the blizzards, and in those clothes? Rowan rolled her eyes. What an idiot.

She was about to turn away again when the woman's eyes flew open. The expression in them was deeply suspicious and accusing, as though she had seen what had happened, but it wasn't the expression that froze Rowan to the spot. The woman's eyes were bright purple.

She was alive, then, her eyes open and accusing even as her hands clenched in feeble futility. Frostbite had faded her already pale skin into marble, making her red hair stand out starkly against the snow. She obviously couldn't move another step.

It was tempting just to leave her here.

The woman's eyelids flickered in confusion as she studied Rowan's face. She whispered a single word that chilled Rowan's blood, and then winced as ice cracked around her mouth.

"What did you say?" Rowan demanded shrilly. The woman blinked, looked confused, then shut her eyes in a gesture of defeat.

Rowan looked at the woman, unsure of what to do. How could she know that? How could she possibly say it? That one word had changed everything. She knew she couldn't just leave her out here to die, but how could she possibly trust her? Then she saw the scabbard and had an idea.

Ignoring the thunderous look in the redhead's eyes, she unbuckled the sword belt and carried it over to the mound of snow. It was easier to uncover the body than it had been to bury it. She pulled it away from the disturbed snow a little way, so that it would be visible from the pass.

The sword was stuck in the scabbard, frozen. Rowan rolled her eyes- did the woman know nothing about surviving in the cold? She breathed on the scabbard, warming it, until she could slip the sword free. Ignoring the elegant beauty of the weapon, she took a deep breath and ran the blade along the man's wound, coating the blade in the sticky blood. Then she threw the sword away from the body, but not far away enough that it was hidden by the ferns.

The woman watched all this with outrage in her eyes, her frozen limbs unable to move. She watched Rowan walking back up to her with hatred. Rowan almost flinched away from the fire in the glare, but then remembered that she was doing it for a good reason.

"I'm going to help you." She said quietly. The woman's eyes narrowed in incredulity. She looked towards the body and, with obvious effort, raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, it's so they know it was you who killed him. So even if you are working for them, you can't any more. It...I did it so I can trust you."

The woman's expression showed how much she thought of that idea. Rowan shrugged helplessly, knowing she had explained badly, and took the pelt from her shoulders. It was thick and large enough to use as a sled, even if it would be soaked before long. She laid it out on the ground next to the woman.

"This will hurt." She warned. "Don't try to move yourself- you're frostbitten. You might pass out anyway. Do you understand what frostbite is?"

There was no fear in the redhead's eyes, only disgust. Rowan sighed at this ingratitude as she began to ease the woman onto the pelt. Despite the iron resolve in her eyes, pain flashed across her features as she was moved.

Alanna seethed in pure fury as she was dragged away from her path, her sword, and her family.

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	10. Chapter 9: The Murderer

A/N: Slightly longer chapter here to make up for the last couple of short ones. Thanks for your reviews for the last chapter- I've rewritten/uploaded it to include certain references to eyes. ;)

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Chapter 9: The Murderer

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The sickness spread through the ship like wildfire.

In a panic, the sailors headed for the nearest port, praying they would reach it in time to abandon their shipmates and strike out on their own, away from the illness and the stench of death. As each one fell, the paranoia grew. Shipmates of many years wouldn't go near one another, no-one ate from the same dish and tasks that needed more than one person were treated like death sentences. Sailors climbed into the rigging and onto the cabin roofs with their hammocks, desperate not to sleep in the large communal cabin that had served as a dorm before.

The captain died; no one rushed to fill the empty position. The doctor died, as futile in healing himself as he had been in healing any of the other men. Warriors died, some falling into the sleep even as they practiced pattern dances on the deck. The bodies were no longer wrapped in canvas, they were simply thrown overboard like rubbish.

Numair had forbidden Daine to go anywhere near the sick, on literal pain of death. He himself studied the plague with his gift at every opportunity, looking for trace amounts of the gift that would identify the person who had cast it. Ged accompanied him, translating for some of the sick people who were still conscious. Daine promised to stay away from the sick, but then figured that there was no way she could avoid the illness on the ship, so she kept trying to speak to the screaming voice.

It was very confusing. She was absolutely sure it must be an animal, because she was the only person who could hear it. But animals didn't have magic- at least, not the sort of magic to make people ill. And why wouldn't it talk to her? After the first silence, when the cabin boy had almost woken up, the screaming continued uninterrupted. She tried reasoning with it, arguing with it, comforting it and even screaming back at it, but nothing seemed to work.

On the fifth day after the first person had fallen ill, the ship grated against shallows. Although the ship was over a mile from the shore, many of the sailors jumped into the water and swam desperately to the land. They shrieked at the freezing water, some of them crying out in pain as their muscles cramped, but continued their limping swim towards the shore. The Shang warriors acted with more decorum, but even they couldn't help tapping their feet impatiently as the shore-boats were lowered into the waves. Ged was among the first to leave the ship, making a decided point of not looking back.

"Hurrying won't do them any good, anyway," Numair murmured as they watched the sailors swim to shore, "The locals must have spotted the ship. There's a greeting party, look."

He pointed to the small grey beach that the swimmers were heading for. Sure enough, a large group of people had gathered along the shoreline. Several of them walked forward, leisurely pulling swimmers out of the water and pointing them in the direction of another group, who were apparently in charge.

The sailors followed the directions numbly, unable to believe that over three quarters of their shipmates had died in just five days. The locals bent their heads to them confidingly as the sailors babbled out their story, gesturing back to the ship wildly and shivering in the winter breeze.

Daine and Numair were in one of the last boats to reach the land. By this point, their shipmates had all been directed to a large fire and were talking quietly in subdued voices. There was an air of relief in the way they talked about their escape.

"Do they think that they won't get sick, just because they've left the ship?" Numair muttered frustratedly, "Idiots!"

"It _might_ have been the ship..." Daine said absently, "None of the other ships headed to Tortall have had to land, have they? And people only started getting ill once it had sailed."

Numair smiled crookedly, "Don't you think the first thing I did when this thing started was to check the ship, to see if it was cursed?"

Daine closed her mouth, feeling foolish for even suggesting the idea.

"Master Salmalin!" One of the Shang warriors ran up to the boat as it landed on the grey silt beach. "They want to talk to you?"

Numair shook water from one of his shoes and glanced tiredly at the messenger. "To me? Why in Mithros' name would they want to..."

"The sailors, they said you were in charge." The warrior looked down at his own soaking feet. "The Shang Masters agreed with them. No-one wants to take responsibility for this." His voice tailed away, his face reddening abruptly.

"I see." The mage said coldly. He glared at the Shang warriors who shrank back, as if they were expecting him to throw lightning at them. Ged ignored the entire confrontation, deep in conversation with some of the senior Shang warriors. The local people had formed a ring around the bay of the beach, preventing anyone from escaping without a fight. Obviously, some of the Yamani warriors were considering this an attractive option.

Numair sighed. "I'm going to get warm by the fire. If they want to talk to me they can, but it's going to be somewhere warm."

The Shang warrior nodded and ran back to the group of locals, pointing at the fire as his grasp of Common wore out. The mage strode angrily to the fire, sailors scattering before him.

"I'm not that angry," He murmured to Daine as they held his hands out in front of the flames. "But we can't afford to let anyone think we're weak- even the Shang Warriors on our own side. They're looking for someone to blame, now."

The chief of the locals walked up to the fire and made a sarcastic show of warming his hands. He was decidedly plumper than his fellows, his skin a greasily yellow colour as if he had been eating a lot of the entirely wrong kind of food. He was assuming a dignified air that was completely out of place on a short, chubby man dressed in a thin silk tunic on a cold winter beach. Daine fought off an urge to smile, and hid behind her slave-mask instead.

"You are Master Salmalin?" He said haughtily. Numair inclined his head gracefully. The man scowled and pointed a gnarled finger straight into Numair's face. "And you are a mage?" He demanded.

"Yes," Numair replied, surprised. The man nodded briskly and clapped his hands, making shooing gestures towards some of the other locals. The immediately began to clear the beach, leading the sailors and warriors from the bay along a well-beaten track. As soon as the warriors were out of sight, other villagers melted out of the trees- these ones seemed more confident and stronger, some glinting dully with armour. As one, they produced crossbows and levelled them towards the mages.

"Your people will be made comfortable at our town, and given supplies to continue their journey." The man said pompously, ignoring their puzzled expressions.

"You can't do that! There's plague- your town will catch the sickness!" Daine cried. The man turned slightly and regarded her, trying to look down his nose and to raise his head regally at the same time. The effect was slightly lopsided.

"And who are _you?"_ The man said, ice on every syllable.

Daine bowed automatically at the tone of voice. "Veralidaine Sarrasri, nobility." She said, and then wished she hadn't. The Gallan naming customs were obviously known in Scanra. Pink blotches appeared on the man's pasty face.

"And who are you, please?" She quickly asked. The pink blotches darkened.

"I am Sir Laurent, Miss _Sarrasri."_ He said sarcastically. "I am the headsman of Detmarn, where there is already plague. We're not _stupid_, Miss Sarrasri. In fact, the plague seems to be everywhere."

"Dear Mithros," Numair cursed, the blood draining from his face. "I don't suppose you know what's causing it?"

The man regarded him for a moment, his proud demeanour suddenly deadly grim. "Yes. The plague is caused by magic." He said. Numair sighed and made a theatrical gesture with his hands.

"I _know_ that. What I meant, was..."

"The plague was caused by magic. By mages. It has killed many people." The headsman interrupted coldly. "This is why you are to remain here. Until you can prove your innocence of this crime, you will be prisoners of the region of Detmarn."

"What?!" Both mages cried, naked disbelief on both their faces. Sir Laurent remained unmoved, his eyes sliding slowly from one to the other.

"That's ridiculous!" Daine exclaimed angrily, "You must have hundreds of mages here- any one of them could have cast it- and we've been trying to _help!_"

"We do not need your _help_, Miss Sarrasri." The man made a dismissive gesture. "Either be silent or be gone, but do not sully the ears of noblemen with your bastard words."

He shifted his glare back to Numair, who met the gaze furiously. "We have a very strict attitude towards mages in this country, Master Salmalin, as you will find out. We understand how dangerous your kind can be. You cannot be allowed to simply mingle with innocent citizens. Our own mages are trained when they are young- we know each of their gifts- and none of them began this plague. It must have been someone else." He narrowed his eyes at Numair suspiciously.

"You're insane," the mage breathed, "Dear gods, don't you understand what you're saying? You're suggesting that people with the Gift are inherently evil!"

The man's expression did not change. "We have proof and precedents. For example, the immortals were brought into this realm- unleashed on innocent people- by mages."

"Carthaki mages," Numair countered immediately.

"Perhaps so, but since the Carthaki empire was thrown into a state of revolt by Tortallan mages, during a peace negotiation no less, don't you think they were justified? Or perhaps we could talk about the Mage King Jonathan, draining the richness from our soil with the Dominion Jewel to make his own realm fertile? Or even the woman who calls herself a knight, because her filthy magic murdered everyone who realised the truth?"

He ignored the incredulous look both the mages gave him and carried on. "Very recently, a Tortallan mage crossed our borders without permission. For our own protection we had her followed. Both disappeared. We discovered the murdered corpse of the soldier, but the mage seems to have vanished into thin air." He gestured vaguely in the direction of one of the nearer mountains that curved into the sky. A dark blot halfway up it appeared to be a town. It flicked strangely, a thick coil of smoke rising above it. "We have investigated, but she wasn't there. We can only assume she used magic to hide herself."

"As soon as the mage entered our country, the plague began. We have been told that the Yamani plague didn't start until you boarded the ship."

"You have a lot of faith in coincidences." Numair said coldly, "And a good ear for petty superstition."

Sir Laurent's glare would have frozen lava. "You were seen casting magic on all of the sick..."

"I was trying to help them!" Numair yelled angrily. The headman's calm expression did not alter the slightest bit- he merely looked bored with this emotion.

"You're a healer, then?"

Numair hesitated, "No, but..."

"And you and your..." he looked at Daine as if she were mud under his shoes. "...friend... were not affected at all by the plague?"

"No, but that doesn't mean..."

The man held up a hand, obviously expecting the weak gesture to look impressive. A troop of the soldiers marched neatly up to the fire and saluted to Sir Laurent, who inclined his head in what he probably thought was a regal manner. Outside the circle of firelight, each of the soldiers took the safety catch from their crossbows and checked that swords were clear in scabbards. The message was clear before the pompous fool began to speak again: make one wrong move and die.

"Master Salmalin of Tortall, I place you under arrest in the name of the King of Scanra on suspicion of murder. If found guilty you will be executed before the people you have wronged: compensation for the lives that have been destroyed. Do not attempt to resist arrest..."

As the man droned on an official sounding list of laws, Numair touched Daine's shoulder. "Daine, you need to get away from here," he said quietly. She shook her head furiously.

"I'm not leaving you!" She whispered fiercely, grabbing hold of his hand and holding it tightly. He smiled and stroked her cheek tenderly.

"You have to, sweet."

"Stop trying to protect me!" Her words were angry, but her eyes filled with tears. She didn't understand how he could be so calm when they were saying such terrible lies about him. He glanced at the headsman (who still droned on officially) and shook his head.

"What do you think you could do to change their minds? They won't listen to either of us." He smiled wryly, "But at least, at the moment, they're only interested in arresting me. You could get away."

"I'm coming with you." She said stubbornly. He scowled.

"Daine, listen to me. You won't be _safe _if you stay here... I can look after myself, I promise, but not if I'm worried about you. If you leave, you can live off the forest. You could hide with the People. You'll be _safe._ And you could try and find this mage they say killed that soldier. The one they say started it. Even if it's just a random lunatic, at least you would have some evidence that we don't mean them any harm."

Daine bit her lip. "I guess that makes sense. How do I get away?"

"I don't know." For a moment his calm mask slipped, a glimpse of sorrow shining from his eyes. _He's not angry. _Daine realised dazedly, _They're__ accusing him of murder, and he just feels sorry for them. _

Numair glanced again at the guards, noting them shuffling impatiently as the headsman continued to drone on. Not much time left before they decided to interrupt, he guessed. He embraced Daine closely, whispering urgently in her ear.

"I'll make you invisible- it won't last for long, but it'll be long enough for you to get away. Don't talk to anyone- these people will be looking for you. Look for tracks; check the main routes from the border first. Listen to the animals."

She nodded against his cheek. "Please stay safe," she whispered desperately. He didn't answer, but smiled at her as lovingly as if they were safe back in Ilane's house in the Yamani Islands, as if nothing was important at all except letting her know how much he loved her.

As if he didn't want the last time she saw him to be full of pain and tears.

He kissed her forehead, and the cold of the spell filled her almost instantly. The circle of soldiers yelled out in fright and shock, recoiling from the magic as the foreign girl disappeared before their eyes.

Before the confused guards thought to close their circle more tightly, she ran through a gap between them. One of the guards yelled as she brushed against him on the way past, grabbing at the empty air in a desperate attempt to grab her. She ran as quickly as she could to the trees, picking the clearest route so the trees wouldn't tremble as she ran past. The shouts faded behind her until all she could hear was the soft sobbing of the wind. She could hear Sir Laurent's voice rise nasally through the hubbub as he shrieked at Numair.

She ran until the spell wore off, then hid under the crooked trunk of a fallen fir tree, planning to stay there until they stopped searching for her. It would be unlucky if she'd travelled along the same route they were going to take back to the town. And she couldn't hide silently in the forest if she was out of breath. She forced her breathing to quieten down and lay as silently as she could, ignoring the icy water dripping down through her cloth Yamani shoes.

She dreaded to think what they'd done to Numair for casting the invisibility spell. Several times she had to stop herself from getting up and running back to the beach, to give herself up so she could stay with him, so maybe he wouldn't be punished for more 'evil' magic. She shook her head softly, no. He knew what he was doing. Don't be a fool.

Her feet had gone numb. She'd have to start moving again, or freeze. Cautiously, she stood up and looked around. She had run in the direction of the village the headman had pointed to, but now she was lost, and alone...

_Stop it,_ she thought. _It's just a forest. You've gone soft. You were too trusting- anyone could see that we shouldn'__t have headed for that beach!__A__nd you should have spotted those soldiers in the forest. You can't just stand here and feel sorry for yourself when you have a job to do. Find the murderer. Free Numair. Anyone else would find it easy._

She forced the sorrow and rage into pure determination, finding the cold, cruel part of herself that Ozorne had created in Carthak. She spoke to herself, yelled at herself for letting everything go so wrong again. It almost seemed like it was Katryn's voice whispering the words inside her mind, so comforting and so cruel.

_Never mind that you're alone again. You're used to it, assassin girl. You can't go crying to mother every time something goes wrong. Find the murderer. Kill the murderer. Punish the murderer for what they're doing to Numair. It'll be easy. It'll be fun._

Expressionless, numb, her grey eyes glinting like sharpened steel, she headed for the burning village.


	11. Chapter 10: Explanations

888

Tundra

Chapter 10: Explanations

888

"I know you're awake, you know. You look angry when you're awake."

Alanna opened one eye cautiously. The girl was sitting in between her and the fire, making her face an expressionless silhouette. Her hair hung messily down her back in dark tangles, making her look almost wild, although her voice was mild and slightly amused.

Alanna opened her mouth to speak, and wasn't really surprised when the best she could manage was a croak. The girl tilted her head inquisitively to one side and stood up, fetching a crude skin flask of water. She uncorked it and carried it to the mat of ferns, obviously intending to help the older woman drink. Alanna found words in her anger, although they sounded peevish even to her.

"Not...a...baby. Can feed... myself."

The girl smiled drily and set the flask on the floor, just out of Alanna's reach. "Very well. I suggest you try."

Alanna glared at her and willed herself to sit up. Ignoring the stiffness that had spread through her bones, she heaved herself up into a sitting position, smiled triumphantly at the impertinent child, then gasped as the most painful pins-and-needles of her life flooded through her spine.

The girl slipped a thicker pillow of ferns under the knight's back, supporting her enough to sit up without effort. "Now you're up, you might as well stay up. Just as a point of interest, moving your hands and feet will be more painful- but move them you must."

"Know... been cold... before." Alanna snapped, her jaw aching. The girl nodded, all amusement gone from her demeanour.

"If you _know_, then you also know that it will be days before you can use your hands properly again. You're already malnourished and worn out. Are you going to swallow your pride and let me help you, or would you rather die? I don't care one way or the other, to be honest. I only brought you here because I want to ask you one thing."

"Won't...answer it." Alanna eyed the flask of water and licked her lips, "...yet."

The girl smiled, as if Alanna was dying of thirst to entertain her, and took up the flask. "I'll take that as a deal."

Alanna drank the water greedily. It was slightly warm from being near the fire, stinging her throat as she swallowed, but it was clean and fresh and delicious. She coughed when the girl took the flask away, clearing her throat so she could speak again. She wanted answers, but for that she had to be able to ask questions.

The girl stood up and walked awkwardly away, heading outside to fill the flask with snow so that there would be more water when it melted. As soon as she was out of the room Alanna took the opportunity to look around the room, looking for points of entry, hidden corners where other bandits could be hiding, and so on.

She was confused to see that she was in a tiny cave, rotting branches growing through the earthen walls and creating a musty smell. Water dripped from the low roof in several places. The only entry was a tiny slit in one wall, which the girl was just squeezing back through. She noticed the woman looking around the cave and twisted a strand of her filthy hair around her finger uneasily.

"I'm Rowan." She said abruptly.

"Rowan." Acknowledged the knight, "Don't you have a house?" She nearly regretted this the moment she said it, and then remembered that the girl didn't deserve to be pitied. But she really did look pathetic.

"I did have a house. They burned it down." Rowan said shortly, putting the flask next to the fire. "Do you care?"

"No. You're a murderer. You framed me. You stole my sword. You blackmailed me." Alanna started flexing her fingers in her right hand, gritting her teeth as they burned. "As soon as I'm better, I'll take you to the local authority as the bandit you are."

"Such gratitude! I am unworthy!" Rowan said drily. "Am I allowed to yell at you, now? Ignoring the idiotic way you try to travel the mountains, you don't notice Bronzer spies following you and instead you lead them straight to my home. You don't appreciate how difficult it was to find this place, or how heavy you are for such a _short_ person, _or_ that my whole village was burned to the ground because they thought you were hiding there."

She stood up abruptly. "If it makes you feel any better, I blackmailed you for a reason. You saved three people's lives without knowing it yesterday. Mine, your own, and the bairn's." Her hand curled protectively around her stomach for a moment, then she looked at the silent woman and shrugged.

"Keep flexing your hands and your feet. Stop if it gets too painful. I'm going out to check the snares."

"My name's Alanna!" The Knight said loudly as the girl turned away. Rowan looked at her without smiling.

"Alanna. Please don't shout, they're still looking for us... you."

Alanna practiced flexing her hands and feet for the two hours Rowan was absent, stopping only when the pain was unbearable and beginning again before it had completely numbed. Her hands were still stiff and sore when she heard Rowan returning, but at least they were working. Her feet tingled unpleasantly, but they seemed healthy enough.

Rowan nearly danced into the cave, holding her catch- two rather scrawny winter hares, their fur patchy grey. "Two hares! Look how big they are!" She exclaimed happily, then seemed to collect herself and turned away from Alanna's curious expression to skin them and gut them.

"How old are you?" Alanna asked eventually, opting for a safe topic. Rowan glanced at her briefly, then hung one of the skinned hares on a protruding root to drain.

"Twenty-three. I won't ask you your age. Any more trivial questions you want to ask? My star-sign is the Hag, I was born in the Banjiku lands, and I'm a widow. My husband was killed by that town authority you're going to hand me over to, if you're interested."

Alanna drew a slow breath and tried to sit up a little straighter. "Why?"

Rowan looked at her like she was an idiot. "Because of me, of course."

"Just pretend I don't know anything about Scanran law, please. I'm too tired to put up with hints."

Rowan hesitated, hanging up the second hare and wiping her hands on her already-filthy skirt. Alanna winced, trying to forget she was a healer for a moment so she could concentrate. She determined to teach this girl to wash before she had the baby.

Rowan knelt next to the fern mat, her expression anxious. "Do you promise to answer my question, if I explain to you? It's important."

"Are you going to tell me why you killed that man?" Alanna asked sharply. Rowan nodded. "Alright, I promise."

The girl drew a deep breath, folding her hands neatly in her lap as if she'd had deportment lessons. "It's all about the Gift."

"I don't know much about Tortallan law, but I know that up until about twenty years ago it was very similar to Scanran law. Twenty years ago, a group of vigilantes formed in this region of Scanra. They called themselves the Bronzers. They overthrew the lords in all of the keeps, all the fortresses... they turned the entire coastal region into a huge fortress.

"The king of Scanra, knowing that the Bronzers now had a very powerful military position in his county, decided to make a deal with them. They received all the powers of the king, but only within their own borders. They had to send tribute to the main area of Scanra, and agree to send soldiers in the case of a war, but in other matters they basically ran their own country. The king kept this very secretive, in case Tortall discovered Scanra was divided and thought it was weak enough to attack.

"It all worked very well, while the Bronzers settled into their rule. The people in the region acted as they always had. However, the leaders of the Bronzers had paranoid ideas about the Gift.

They believed that the Gift was an intrinsic sign of evil in people. Religiously, they felt that the Gifted arrogantly thought they were better than the Gods, because they were always trying to alter the fabric of the world through words of power, or conjuring fire in the wet, or such things. They established new temples that taught this, making the Gifted outcast in their own homes.

From a military point of view, this was a bad thing. When they Bronzers took over the region they found that their powerful trained soldiers were often obliterated in huge numbers by a single mage. The only counter to this would be another mage. So the military realised that to remain a free district, they had to train war mages. Most of the trained mages had already left to live in other countries, so they... they issued a law giving the army the right to take Gifted children away from their parents, to train them as mages.

The army found that, naturally, the younger a child began to learn, the more deadly it was. So they took them away as babies, never letting them see their parents. By the time they were adults, all they knew was the army, and killing. They didn't know their families.

My family, as I said, were Banjiku. We moved to Scanra when I was very young, but I was just old enough that the magic detectors figured that I must already have been tested. Since we didn't know about the law then, we didn't think it was odd.

Now, my sister was born with the Gift- a very strong Gift. She was taken away from home when she was two weeks old. My parents fought the law, but it was useless. Our whole family was given a black mark, and watched very closely for years afterwards as insurrectionists. My parents became more determined not to lose their other children, and taught us how to conceal our gift from the testers. I'm lucky; I only have a little magic, so I found it easy to hide.

When I was eight, one of the women from the village was discovered to have the gift, to have hidden it her whole life. The headsman said that she had done it to avoid serving her country- that she was a traitor and revolutionary. He sentenced her to be beheaded. She used her magic to hide.

Mages from the military school were sent to find her. That was the first time I saw my sister. She was just a child, but she pointed at the exact place where the woman was hiding and was right. They asked her what she wanted as a reward, and she asked for the woman not to be killed. They laughed and humoured her, and the woman was merely crippled for life. Merely! Pah!" Rowan spat on the fire in disgust. "And so another black mark went against our family."

"The last time I saw my sister was five years ago. She was fifteen. She came to our house in the middle of the night. We hardly recognised her. She said she had run away from the military school. She said that the mages weren't really being trained to protect Scanran people, they were being desensitised. They were being turned into cold hearted killing machines. Every day they were force-fed the doctrine about the sins of the Gift, and every day they were trained to kill with the Gift. She said many of the mages killed themselves, loathing their inhumanity, hypocrisy and sinfulness. The Bronzers didn't care.

She said that when a mage was what she called "broken", then the mage was sold. Either to the mainland of Scanra, where they worked as spies or assassins, or to Carthak. They were even sold to bandit teams or mercenaries. Anyone with the right price. The Bronzers used the profit to line their own purses.

The Bronzers were effectively using the people's fear and paranoia to market slaves.

She said she was going to hide, that she would use her magic- but she said the Bronzers would come after the family to hurt her. She said the Bronzers had been suspicious of the family for years, since they had so many children and only one was gifted. Now they had an excuse to attack.

She told us to run, but not too far- there were spies in every country. She told us to find menial lives, to change our names and split up the family. We weren't even to write to each other.

We asked if she would stay with her family, but she refused. First because she hardly knew us, she just felt she should warn us. Secondly, she had found out the Bronzer's plans when a slave trader had come to inspect her. She killed him. She was a murderer on the run, and run she must.

She left as quickly as she had arrived. That was the last time I saw her.

I found and married an ordinary sort of man, in a little village a few towns over. I suppose I cared for him in a dull, dutiful kind of way- to me all he really meant was safety from the Bronzers. But he adored me. When we found out the Bronzers were coming to the house- that they knew I was there- he hid me and lied through his teeth, saying that I was visiting friends in Eskel. They killed him for protecting me, but they didn't find me.

Now, as to why I killed that man. My family were going to have a reunion, to celebrate the birth of my baby. The Bronzers must have known, but they waited until my whole family was there before they pounced. I didn't realise- I thought they had found my husband's home by chance- so, having nowhere else to go, I headed home. When I got there, the whole place was turned over. My family had put up a fight, but they were gone. They may just be imprisoned, but it's more likely that they're dead. These men enjoy killing.

I decided that I would have my revenge, for my husband, my mother, my father, my siblings and especially for what they did to my sister. For each one I will have my share of blood.

But first I have to have my baby. Sara- the woman who was crippled- has promised to look after the bairn when it's born. I can't fight until my child is safe. Do you understand that?

The man on the pass had been following you for days. He watched you dying of frostbite without lifting a finger, he found food for himself and watched you starve. He tried to give myself and my unborn child to the Bronzers. I killed him.

I blackmailed you because the Bronzers don't know I'm back in this region yet. But they know _you're_ here. So if they think you're a murderer, they'll be more concerned with finding you than finding me."

Rowan sat back, not noticing tears were flowing down her cheeks, and checked the fire. It had died down to almost nothing while she was lost in her memories. Wiping her nose, she added a few logs to the blaze and stood up. She speared the hares onto long sticks and balanced them over the blaze. She took a drink from the flask.

"Now," she said, "The question I want to ask you is this: How do you know my sister?"

Alanna made an awkward movement, hardly trusting herself to speak. "I don't..."

"Oh, please." Rowan said scornfully. "You know what she looks like because you recognised me, and _you said her name_. Who did you think I was?"

Alanna stared at the fire. "A girl I met in Carthak. A slave."

"A slave." The girl echoed, "They must have caught her after all."

Alanna shrugged, then winced as her shoulders stung. Absently she began to rotate her shoulders, ignoring the pins-and-needles. "I wouldn't know. She didn't talk to me. But she looked like you. She had feather markings on her face, like the Banjiku, and she was a powerful mage."

"Was." Rowan turned the hares over, her face expressionless. "She's dead, isn't she?" She laughed suddenly, a cold, dead sound. "I had all these silly dreams about finding my sister's hiding place in the forest and fighting the Bronzers with her. She was the only person I knew who never seemed to be afraid of anything. I thought that if anyone else wanted revenge, it would be her. I guess she was broken after all. And did you kill her, Alanna?"

Alanna hesitated again, unnerved by the sudden question. She tried to remember what little Numair had told her about the girl. The reasonable words seemed bland compared to the real person Rowan had described. "She was insane. She killed many people, and she tried to kill my friends. She was trying to attack a very powerful mage when she lost control of her gift and killed herself."

"Why?"

Alanna blinked. "I don't know why. I guess... she killed people because she was told to. But... I do know she had good friends before she died. I don't think she was a bad person..."

Rowan shrugged off the empty words, her eyes distant. "She was who she was trained to be, that's all. Thank you for answering my question." She stared at the floor, speaking to herself as if there was no-one there to see her grief. "And so my whole family is dead."

"I'm sorry," Alanna said awkwardly. Rowan started out of her gloom and made the dismissive gesture again.

"Don't be. You didn't kill them. At least now I know you're not a Bronzer spy. They would have lied." She stood up, bending her head slightly to avoid a low spot in the roof. "You look tired. I'll wake you up when the food is ready."

Alanna looked sidelong at her, but the girl's face was unreadable. Recognising a hint when she heard it, she winced into a lying down position and closed her eyes, turning away from the fire. Exhaustion washed over her in a sudden wave- by the time she realised Rowan was casting a sleep spell on her she was too tired to fight it. Her mind tried to seethe with all she had learned, but the soft sleep dragged her under.

Just before she fell into the darkness, she heard the muffled sound of crying.


	12. Chapter 11: Playing Games

888

Tundra

Chapter 11: Playing Games

888

Ged was confused.

No, confused was the wrong word. Ged was annoyed.

Ged was furious.

The villages had herded the sailors and warriors into their town hall like sheep, giving them food and water and avoiding their eyes. They were shown a stack of mattresses and pallets that they could use, and another supply of blankets. There was a large hearth, with plenty of firewood.

Before they left, the headsman of the village spoke to them. They were told on no uncertain terms that they would be leaving in the morning- marching back south across the border to Tortall. They would have safe escort. In fact, they were being treated with every cold courtesy these common savages could summon. So why did Ged feel so irked?

Perhaps it was the way the people talked down to them- the way they couldn't tell the difference between the common sailors and the legendary Shang warriors. Or perhaps it was the secretive manner each villager had, as if they had a secret that they weren't telling the foreigners.

_It might even be the bed,_ he thought, shifting uneasily on the scratchy mattress. It seemed to be filled with a luxurious selection of rocks, porcupine spines and slime, which oozed from one corner each time he moved.

Even if he wanted to sleep, the mattress would have been deterrent enough. As it was, he watched the entrance to the hall avidly, wondering where the hell Daine and Numair had got to. That was another thing the villagers hadn't spoken about. Numair had been volunteered as a spokesperson for them, Daine had stayed with him, and that was all he knew.

_Maybe they're staying somewhere else_, he argued against his worry. _But they'd still send a message, or come to talk to us. They wouldn't just leave. _

He stood up, rubbing his shoulder where the mattress had bitten him, and walked to the door. As he expected, there was a burly soldier outside- _not really a guard, not a guard at all, sir! Just someone to make sure you're not disturbed. Very superstitious lot, the locals! Don't you worry, sir!_

"Yeah, right." He muttered under his breath in Yamani. He doubled back to the carnivorous mattress and retrieved his pack. He grabbed a few of the cleaner looking blankets from the pile and stored them neatly in the bag. Wrinkled fruit and some smoked cheese from the supply of food went on top.

He then stood up, slinging the pack nonchalantly over one shoulder as he strolled to the door. He smiled cheerfully at the guard, cutting no ice at all in the man's armed-to-the-teeth persona.

"Please remain in the hall, sir." He rumbled, shifting his weight slightly. "There's nowhere to go, and it's bitterly cold out there." He looked at Ged's blank expression and sighed theatrically, then pantomimed rubbing his arms and stamping his feet. "Cold, yes? Brr! You understand?"

"Yes, I speak perfect common." Ged said absently, shutting the door to the hall quietly. The man flushed, aware that he had made a fool of himself. Ged took advantage of the man's discomfort, wanting him to feel embarrassed. He made a show of looking up and down the narrow wooden corridor. He noticed the gleam of torchlight on metal through the window, and realised the hall must be surrounded by guards.

He smiled brightly, pretending not to notice the guards. "I've done guard duty before," he said, his tone light. The man narrowed his eyes, wondering why this man was making friendly banter at one in the morning.

"Yeah?" he said.

"Yeah. We used to pull straws to see who was guarding outside. It was boring as the Black God's realm." The guard smiled slightly and nodded. Ged absently took a flask out of his bag, making a show of enjoying a swig. He looked embarrassed when the guard stared at the canister, and handed it over to him. "Here, finish it off. Like you said, it's a cold night."

The guard's eyes flickered. He glanced down the hallway to check there was no-one to see, then relaxed and reached out for the flask. "Be good to have some protection against the wife, eh?" he joked. "No offence for the...uh..."

"None taken! None taken!" Ged said congenially. The guard wiped his mouth and offered the flask back. Ged smiled his thanks, reached out, and broke the man's arm.

His eyes went wide, he opened his mouth to yell. Ged clamped a hand over his mouth, keeping his other firmly on the man's broken elbow. The man struggled, went white and finally went limp.

"If you pass out, or shout, I'll break your legs." Ged promised, his voice deadly serious. The man's eye widened, he nodded against the hand. "Now, I'm going to take my hand away from your mouth, and the first thing you're going to do is apologise for your pig ignorance. You savages don't know what education is. Then we're going to have a little chat."

The man nodded again. Ged smiled grimly and took his hand away from the man's mouth. As soon as he took a deep breath to shout for help, he twisted the broken elbow. The man gulped back the scream, tears starting from his eyes.

"I didn't hear an apology." Ged hissed. The man stammered an apology, his eyes darting between Ged's glare and his arm. The Shang warrior nodded.

"Now we're friends again, I'd like to know what happened to my companions."

The guard's eyes flicked to the door to the hall. "Aren't they...in...there?" He said desperately. Ged shook his head frustratedly.

"No, you idiot! If they were in there, would I be wasting my time with you? I am looking for-" he spoke each word slowly and clearly, "-the...two...mages! I'm sure you noticed at least one of them!" He shook the man. "A tall northerner with dark hair, and the only woman that was with us! Don't tell me you didn't notice _her?"_

The man licked his lips nervously. "I... noticed."

"Of course you did." Ged smiled encouragingly, his eyes dangerous. "Go on."

"They were arrested. On suspicion of murder." The man thought about spitting on the floor at the mention of the crime and thought better of it. "Headsman Laurent said they started the plague with magic."

Ged stared at him, honestly dumbfounded. "That's the stupidest thing I ever heard."

"It's true." The man nodded, as if this would prove his credibility. "The man cast evil magic right before our eyes."

"So he escaped?" Ged grinned. The guard shook his head, triumph in his eyes.

"He made the woman disappear. _She_ escaped. But he's rotting in the darkest prison in Scanra by now. He didn't even put up a fight!"

"If he had, your pitiful town would be a smoking crater by now." Ged spat. He glanced at the man's gloating expression. "Arrest me."

The man blinked. "What?"

"I just assaulted one of Scanra's finest, didn't I?" Ged didn't bother to mask the sarcasm in his voice, but the soldier preened himself as though it was the finest compliment. He then remembered who it was he was talking to and backed away, his red-rimmed eyes wary as he held his broken arm. "It's a trick. What are you playing at?"

Ged sighed and made a theatrical gesture with his hands. He picked up his pack and shouldered it, making a show of buttoning up his coat. "I'll put it simply, so you can understand it: Arrest me or I'll kill you, and then get one of the other guards to arrest me for _that._I'm sure you'd arrest someone for murder if you'll arrest them for making someone invisible."

Ged hid a smile as he was escorted cautiously outside. He'd times it exactly right. Any captain worth his salt was at home on this freezing night, leaving only a half-baked mess of incompetent leftovers. They huddled in groups, discussing what to do before they even thought to tie Ged's hands behind his back. They forgot to take the bag from his back, and then were too nervous to untie the ropes to take it off him. It was nearly an hour before they arranged an escort to take him to the prison.

The prison warden was not pleased to be woken in the early hours of the morning, especially since the soldiers had no orders. He yawned, rubbed his eyes, cleared his throat several times and glared at the soldiers. They interrupted themselves in their rush to give an exaggerated account of the 'fight'.

"I'm not putting him nowhere without orders." He muttered. The soldiers wouldn't back down. Ged thought frantically. This warden was smarter than the soldiers. Anyone would tell you it was stupid to put comrades in the same cell. He was hoping that they weren't aware that he knew Numair, just that they were on the same ship.

He felt a bead of sweat running down the back of his neck. The tickling sensation was irritating. The guards stood solidly in the middle of the room for a long time, arguing with the sleepy warden and getting more and more noisy. Sooner or later the noise would wake up someone who knew what they were doing, and then the game would be up.

"You like arguing in this country, don't you?" Ged commented cheerfully after a few more unbearable minutes. As one, they turned to glare at him. At least they weren't yelling at each other anymore.

"Put him in with the other one. Sort it out tomorrow." The warden broke the silence. Ged coughed to cover a laugh, relief washing through him. He knew a lot of people who would be out of work tomorrow.

The warden shut the guards out of the dungeon, locking the door behind him. He turned him over to a prison guard, who yawned widely to show his keenness for the job. He led Ged down several flights of stairs, locking doors behind him so he couldn't run back, and eventually unlocked a heavy iron door.

"Welcome to Detmarn Dungeon!" The guard said in what he probably thought was a sinister voice. Ged bowed formally, smiling at the guard's expression. Before the man could get peevish, he ducked into the cell and shut the door behind him.

888


	13. Chapter 12: Losing Tempers

A/N: Happy Christmas!

888

Tundra

Chapter 12: Losing Tempers

888

Waking up this time was even worse than the first. This time there was no dull weariness, no drowning sleep dulling the pain- she was wide awake in seconds, and had to bite her lip to stop from whimpering when the wall of pain hit her. For a few minutes she struggled against the pain, her eyes shut, forcing herself to move inch by inch until her aching limbs stopped screaming. She guessed that she was now over the last of the pain, but it didn't stop her frustration at healing so slowly! Then she opened her eyes.

She barely had time to register that the cave was empty before the light from the entrance was blocked, and Rowan walked in. She met the girl's eyes in greeting- a small, silent ritual that they had established in the two days since their first conversation. Since that afternoon, they had barely spoken to one another- each lost in their own thoughts and still suspicious of the other. Sometimes Alanna would see the girl glance at her, a question in her eyes, but then she would shake her head and turn away with it unasked. She understood- the only questions she could answer were those about Katryn, and she was sure it hurt this girl that a foreign stranger knew more about the sister she had idolized for so many years than she did.

Alanna had her own questions, but none of them really seemed as important as getting well. She had asked if Rowan had seen, or heard of, a Tortallan family travelling through the passes, but the girl said no. She said that many people travelled in the Winter, following the work that kept them out of the mines, and a small family could easily have passed through unnoticed. Especially with the plague. Refugees poured from all the villages to cross the border.

And that was what was really troubling the girl. Her village was gone- destroyed- and the all people had vanished with it. She had gone back to the burned out shell of her house to collect some stores she'd hidden in the chimney, and the place was deserted. The threat of the plague, combined with the rage of the Bronzers, meant that all the villagers had simply left. She had crept back into the cave, her face ashen, and when Alanna had asked her what was wrong she'd simply said, "Sara's gone."

"Who?" Alana asked, and then remembered, "The woman who said she'd look after your baby?"

Rowan nodded, unpacking the bundle of supplies she had brought back with her. "She wasn't too keen on the idea. I'm not surprised she left. It was selfish of me to think she'd stay." She wiped her nose and sniffed, an unconscious noise that was almost a sob.

"Oh, grow up." Alanna snapped before she could stop herself. "You sound like a child reciting lessons! Don't you ever think for yourself?" She sat up straighter, ignoring the screaming pain in her muscles and the shocked pain on Rowan's face. "For gods' sake, Rowan! No wonder people break their promises to you, if you keep making excuses for them! You need to be selfish! You're going to have a baby! Stop feeling sorry for other people and feel sorry for _yourself_."

"I'm just upset that her home was ruined." Rowan started defensively. Alanna snorted derisively.

"Rubbish. You're upset because now you can't ignore your baby and go off on your little crusade. I bet the next thing you were going to do was ask _me_ to look after the baby."

Rowan flinched, staring at the bundle in front of her with over-bright eyes. Alanna noticed the movement and shook her head in disgust.

"You'd give a newborn baby to a stranger you know almost nothing about, for a chance to kill a few petty soldiers? Don't try to tell me you're a military expert, that you can seriously hurt the bronzers- at best, you might kill one or two people before you get killed. They'll laugh about it."

Rowan didn't look up. "Why are you yelling at me?" she said in a tiny voice. Alanna shrugged, swallowing the bitterness of her temper before she could vent any more steam. It was like yelling at a puppy, it really was.

"I don't know. I don't understand you. Out of interest, what's your baby's name?"

Rowan blinked, confused at the sudden change. "Name?"

"Sure. It's got to be due in the next few weeks. I know that when I was pregnant I had a hundred names all lined up before George laughed at me. That's my husband- he always feels safer laughing at me if I can't hit him for it." She smiled, trying to redeem her yelling fit unsuccessfully. Rowan looked at her blankly as she continued. "I knew what teachers I wanted my child to have, what places I wanted them to see, what I wanted them to be when they grew up- everything.

She smiled wryly. "I never thought I'd be giving speeches in the virtues of motherhood. I hated...I _loathed_ being pregnant. But I never wanted to just _give the baby away._ They were _people_ long before they were born. I bet _you_ don't even know what colour you want the baby's eyes to be." She bit her tongue, stopping herself from saying more. Rowan had gone pale, her eyes disbelieving. The cold silence between them stretched to eternity.

Rowan slowly drew a breath. "I'm a horrible person, aren't I?" She whispered. Alanna shook her head and laughed shortly.

"Don't go thinking that just because I yelled at you. I yell at everyone. I bet your thoughts have been going around and around in circles for so long that it's difficult to take another person into account. Right?"

"But... I can't just give up." Rowan whispered, with more resolution in her quiet voice. Alanna sighed and started flexing her hands again. The pain was going away, bit by bit.

"Of course you can't." She agreed, "That's why I'm offering you a deal."

"A deal?" Rowan repeated, returning to unpacking the bundle with shaking hands.

"A deal. I'll help you sort out the Bronzers- at least as far as this mage school goes- and you look after yourself and the baby. That means you eat properly, sleep properly, stop crawling around the mountains and for god's sake have a wash."

"Why would you do that?" the girl asked, ignoring the comment about washing. Alanna looked at her blankly, not quite knowing how to answer.

_Because this sounds too much like another threat to my country. __Because it's my job.__ Because my children are here, somewhere, and they're gifted._

_Because I feel sorry for you._

"Because you helped me." Alanna lied.

Rowan didn't look up from the packets of dried herbs she'd just unpacked. "Alright, Alanna. It's a deal."

And now, a whole day later, it was as if the whole conversation had never taken place. Rowan couldn't stop climbing the mountains- regardless of the cold and the savage immortals, how else were they to get food? And Alanna could do nothing to destroy the Bronzers when she couldn't even stand up. So once again, they were at odds.

Rowan winced as she knelt down and started going through the supplies, frowning at each packet as she uncovered it. Her usual air of quiet industry had turned into a sort of lost confusion. Alanna sat up properly, gritting her teeth as the rest of the pain vanished.

"What's wrong?" She asked. Rowan barely glanced at her, having found a loaf of very stale bread.

"Someone's cut the rabbits out of the snares." She said.

"Does that mean someone knows we're here?" Alanna asked, bewildered. Rowan shook her head, irritated, and started breaking the hard crust of the bread open to see if it was still soft inside.

"No, of course not! We're very well hidden. It's probably just a traveller stealing from us, or someone playing a joke. It's too subtle for the Bronzers, if that's what you mean." She chewed a piece of bread for a moment, then spat it out into the fire. "No, it just means we'll be hungry for a few days, until whoever it is moves on."

"Did you see anyone?" Rowan shook her head, but Alanna persisted, "Any footprints?"

"Wolf prints. That's about it." Rowan started rummaging again, but came up with nothing. She shrugged and sat down on her pallet, pulling out her belt knife absently. She found a bundle of string and started cutting it into lengths to make new snares. "Don't worry, we won't starve. No-one could live off the mountain for long without shelter, and there's nowhere else within ten miles of here. So they'll have to move on. It's simple."

"Don't you care that there are people out there?" Alanna asked. Rowan shook her head, busily tying knots.

"Um, no. People have to learn to live with the mountains, or they die. Like you almost did. They shouldn't go trying to prove themselves, or do something so stupid as to travel in winter, when they don't know the mountains. Especially if it means stealing from me." She looked up and caught Alanna's incredulous expression, and smiled. "Don't worry. I'm not really as heartless as all that, alright? I do care; I just reserve the right to think they're idiots."

"So you won't try to help them?" Alanna asked.

"No. They'll find out soon enough, when the next blizzard hits us. Then they'll know that they have to either move away, or die. No-one can survive out there in the middle of winter."


	14. Chapter 13: The Thing About Prison

Boastful A/N:

I got an offer for university! happy dance Aberystwyth in Wales has offered me a place in English Literature and Creative Writing!

Relevant A/N:

Um... I kinda just realised there's been lots and LOTS of talking in this story so far, but all the exposition-y type stuff is pretty much over now. So now I can begin telling y'all the Merry Adventures of Ged, the Miserable Moaning of Rowan and the Dangerous Discoveries of Daine. Or, to put it another way: Have another chapter:)

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Tundra

Chapter 13: The Thing about Prison...

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He stood still, blinking in the sudden pitch darkness until he could almost see. The dungeon was suitably cold, dank, dark and dismal. Everything about it was straight out of the stories adults tell children to get them to behave, down to the occasional squeak of the obligatory rat and the tinny drip of water. There were no windows, no way out except the door. A darker shadow in one corner was perfectly still, sleeping.

Ged looked around the cell and smiled. He spent a couple of intense minutes shifting his hands until the knot in the rope loosened, then coiled up the loose ends. In seconds his hands were free. He massaged blood back into his wrists and grinned.

"My grandmother could escape from this place blindfolded." He said clearly. He heard an intake of breath as Numair woke up, accompanied by the rattle of chains. He walked over to the corner and sat down, opening the backpack quickly. "Thank the Hunter for such predictable guards!"

There was total silence. When Numair spoke, his voice was completely incredulous. _"Ged?"_

"Fancy meeting me here!" The Wolf said happily.

"Ged?" Again, the raw disbelief, "What in Mithros' name are you doing here?"

"Social call." Despite his light words, Ged's expression turned serious in the cell's half-light. "Are you hurt?"

"No." Numair said, rather too quickly. The warrior rolled his eyes, thinking through his next comment carefully while he pulled a candle from the bag and lit it. Both men winced away from the light, obscenely bright after so long in the dark. Ged's eyes cleared first, allowing him to get a good look at the prisoner before he could see enough to glare at him. He drew in a sharp breath at the state of the man.

"Liar. You don't have to be heroic, you know. I saw the size of some of the guards out there. I thought you might need some help. Looks like I was right."

"You're not seriously suggesting that you got put down here on purpose, are you?" Numair said, ignoring the jibe and beginning to laugh helplessly. "I must be going mad!"

Ged faked a look of indignation. "I'll have you know I broke a man's arm to get down here, and this is the thanks I get! Next time I just won't bother!" He paused for effect. "Unless I'm bored, of course."

Numair smiled, and then winced as the movement pulled a cut on his jaw. "Alright, I believe you. Even if I was mad I couldn't imagine anyone saying anything as strange as that."

"Excellent. Now that you've decided I'm real, shall we go?"

Numair blinked. "It's not that simple. I can't leave. _You_ should try to escape."

Ged handed him a blanket, which he accepted gratefully and wrapped around his shoulders. "Try? What is this _try _nonsense?" He idly flexed his fist, "I'm getting out when they come to visit me in the morning. I just thought I'd invite you to come with me."

"I can't." Numair absentmindedly glanced at his hands. Ged groaned theatrically and pulled a lock pick out of his pocket, gesturing to the chains.

"You can. You're not that badly hurt. Hand that lock over."

Numair glared at the warrior and resolutely covered the lock with his hand. "I can't, you idiot! At the moment they have no proof that I've done anything at all- and there's no way they can find any proof. But imagine if I escape. Suddenly all their mages will be hunting me down- and I'd have to use magic to at least get them to leave me alone. And that would make me almost as bad as they say I am. If I stay here, then it gives the rest of the warriors a chance to get to Tortall. If I don't give them at least that chance, then I've wasted everything Daine and I have been fighting for."

Ged paced the cell, running his hand through his hair in frustration. The room wasn't really big enough for prolonged sulking. The stones were slippery underfoot, as if thousands of feet had worn away the same path.

"Daine would have tried to escape." He said flatly. Numair shrugged and leaned back against the wall, staring at the candle.

"I know. I also know that you're thinking I'm a coward, and that I'm giving up." He smiled and looked up, "You think I'm... destroying my honour, right?"

"I'm not stupid. I can see why you're doing it." Ged said archly. Numair waved a hand in exaggerated thanks. Ged rolled his eyes at the gesture. "I suppose you expect me to run to Tortall with the others, now?"

"No!" Numair sat upright, his expression suddenly serious. " There's something you could do, if you wanted to help." He waited for Ged to nod before he continued. "The headsman of this town said there was a mage from Tortall in the hills, who had killed someone. Daine's trying to find whoever it is."

"You sent her after a murderer, on her own?" Ged said, masking the fear in his voice with amusement. Numair looked uncomfortable for a moment.

"She wouldn't leave without a good reason."

Ged started to speak, then noticed the other man's expression. "Hunter help me," he breathed, "You did it for her, didn't you?"

Numair glared at him. "At the risk of sounding cliché, you would have done exactly the same thing in my shoes. Or in your own, now I mention it."

"She didn't tell you that-" Ged started, appalled. Despite himself, he could feel blood rushing to his face. Numair shook his head impatiently.

"You chase anything in a skirt, and Daine's been avoiding you. You don't have to be an arch chancellor to figure it out."

"...I'm sorry." Ged was uncharacteristically quiet. Numair shook his head again, dispelling the discomfort.

"Anyway, I thought she'd be alright on her own. She's used to things being slightly... insane. But when they were bringing me in here they walked me past the barracks- and there were thousands of soldiers being mobilized to search the mountains for both Daine and the mage. She won't be able to protect herself against that many people."

"Why have they got that many troops in the first place?" Ged interrupted, "It makes no sense."

Numair sighed and spread his hands expressively. The manacles clanked tonelessly as he moved. "I don't know. You could find out."

Ged stood up and saluted, his hand over his heart. "Done."

Both men jumped and looked up as there was a rattle of keys outside the door. From the impatience of the rattling, it seemed to be a very nervous guard. Someone whose superior was very, very angry. Ged smiled at the thought and picked up his backpack, taking out all the candles and food from it and leaving them on the floor.

"It's been a lovely visit, but I think I must be going." He bowed regally. Numair grinned and bowed his head in reply.

"Ged?" He said, the amused expression not fading from his face. Ged glanced back at him, massaging his fists absently as the guard outside the door dropped the keys and swore.

"Yes?"

Numair's smile became icy. "Find Daine first. And keep your hands to yourself, or I'll turn you into a newt."

Ged didn't have time to answer before the door swung open. It wasn't just one nervous guard; three nervous guards and the head jailor stood outside the door. One of them, a very young, skinny boy, held a pair of manacles. The chains rattled softly as he shook nervously. Obviously, the story of Ged's friendly conversation with their comrade-in-arms had spread throughout the base.

They jumped as Ged took a step closer to the door and held his hands out. The jailor flushed as Numair laughed at them, and snapped an order at the guard. The man nearly jumped another foot in the air, He held up the handcuffs and gave Ged a frightened look. The warrior smiled encouragingly, showing teeth. The man snapped the cuffs around his wrists, looking relieved as soon as they were in place.

"See you around, Numair!" Ged called out cheerfully as they pulled him out of the cell. The jailor's neck flushed even redder as he locked the door. Ged ignored him, turning to the nervous guard who stood closest to him.

"Hi. What's your name?" He asked amiably. The guard's eyes widened slightly at the tone, but he didn't answer. "Come on, you must have a name. Everyone has a name. I'm Ged Shurin. Pleased to meet you...?"

"Steven." The man filled in automatically, and then paled as the other guards glared at him. Ged smiled apologetically.

"First week, Steven? Drew the short straw, did you?" Without waiting for an answer, he spun around and threw his arms over one of the other guard's head, garrotting him with the manacle chain. The other guards stood frozen at the dry snap as the man's neck broke, then abruptly rushed the prisoner.

"Now, Steven," Ged said, sidestepping over the dead guard's body, "The thing about prisons..." He scissor kicked the other guard. As he'd hoped, the lack of balance was offset by the momentum of the man's running. The guard dropped like a stone. "...is they've got narrow corridors. So having lots of guards is a very bad idea." The jailor bellowed and grabbed him from behind. Ged nonchalantly elbowed him in the stomach. He wheezed and collapsed.

Ged picked up the keys from the jailor's unresisting fist and found the one that unlocked the manacles. He used it, then unthreaded the key from the ring. Only after he had finished did he bother to look up at Steven. The boy was frozen in place, staring aghast at the bodies of his comrades. He blanched as the warrior stepped up to him.

"Don't kill me!" He burbled. Ged smiled.

"I don't want to kill you. I want to tell you the other thing about prisons, first!" He pushed the manacle key through the vent on Numair's cell door and turned, throwing an arm over the boy's shoulders. The guard nearly passed out at the sudden movement.

"The other thing about prisons," Ged said confidingly, steering the guard towards the exit, "And we are taking into account, here, the fact that I could kill you with my little finger... the other thing about prisons, is the guards always have another door out of it. A door that's not surrounded by soldiers. One used to sneak contraband into the prison, for example."

He grinned wolvishly and pressed a knuckle into the soft part of the man's shoulder. The guard whimpered at the bruising pain, but kept walking, changing direction slightly towards the secret door. His eyes flickered desperately from side to side, but he was obviously too scared to try to get away.

"The trick to getting out of prison," Said Ged happily, "is to find the guard who really, _really_ wants you to escape."

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	15. Chapter 14: Woman of Frost

A/N: The pack-lore and forms of address in this chapter (especially "Ledrene") are derived from a series of books called the "Wolves of Time" by William Horwood. I don't know how accurate they are, but I've got used to the terms since re-reading the series.

In case of confusion, Ledrene Mate of the Leader, who bears the cubs. Depending on the strength and manipulative ability of the Ledrene, her status can be equal to or more than that of the male. However, she can be usurped if a younger wolf challenges her, if she is barren, or if the leader makes her outcast.

Any stranger is addressed as simply "Wolf". Pack names are used similarly to surnames. Wolves that travel alone are rogues (if they are outcast, which can be for a number of reasons) or messengers (no prizes for guessing that one).

Pay attention, there will be a test later!

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Tundra

Chapter 14: Woman of Frost

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The pack moved silently through the snow, a swift pace that was marred only by the pauses as the males marked territory. It was a small gathering of wolves: four males, six females and two skinny cubs, all looking worn and wan from the punishment of winter. Their feet were sore from the endless track for food- with so many refugees crawling over the mountains, the pickings were far to sparse for an entire pack. The cubs were hungry, but they were of an age where pride made them too hungry to complain. But the adults knew, and their eyes were filled with wary worry. Each day that passed saw them more starved, until it was getting to the point where even if they saw a fine young stag, they wouldn't be able to bring it down.

When they smelt the other wolf, they nearly decided to run. Glances between the leader and ledrene stopped the rest of the pack in its tracks.

_What wolf runs __on its own_ The leader mused. The ledrene narrowed her amber eyes and sniffed deliberately up the rough path they were following.

_A rogue wolf.__Probably outcast from its pack.__ We should move on._ She replied sharply.

_It might be a messenger. _The leader wheedled, useless in the face of his mate's determination.

_From who?__ All the other packs moved away. _The ledrene turned as if to walk away, then stared at one of the cubs. It was taking a few hesitant steps forward, it's spindly legs nearly invisible against the white snow as it snuffled at the air.

_Well? What are you sniffing at?_ The ledrene demanded.

_Food... _The cub said, almost to itself. The ledrene stared at it, then sniffed the air again. Sure enough, the scent of fresh meat drifted down through the trees. The cub whined involuntarily next to her. She nipped sharply at him.

_Quiet! _Her eyes narrowed even further. The leader caught her speculative expression and sighed.

_If we must_. He said wearily.

The pack moved purposefully now, their steps deliberate as they fanned out to encircle the lone wolf. The ledrene watched them vanish into the trees with a strong sense of pride. Many packs would fight, split up or simply give up under such conditions. It took strong leadership to keep a pack together when it was starving. And even now they moved as one creature, knowing instinctively what each one would do without having to speak.

She waited a few moments, then ambled casually up the path. She knew that with her slight build she looked like an easy target, which was why this strategy had worked in the past. Act casual, grab the food, when the other wolf attacks the pack will pounce. Easy.

To her surprise, the wolf was a female. That was odd- rogue wolves were nearly always male. Females were rarely outcast from a pack, unless they chose to leave. The female wolf stood calmly in the middle of the clearing, At her paws lay a small pile of dead hares. The ledrene could feel her mouth watering at the sight of them, but forced herself to stay casual.

_Greetings, Wolf._ She said.

_Greetings to you, Ledrene._ The other wolf said, hesitating slightly over the formalities. _And greetings to your pack.__ They may come out of the trees and eat, if they wish. I got these hares for you._

_You got them for us._ The ledrene repeated incredulously.

_That's right. I wish to join your pack, or at least talk to you._ The wolf took a hesitant step forwards, then stopped when the ledrene's expression darkened. Quickly, she took several steps backwards and lowered her head. _And...__you__ looked hungry__. I've been watching you_. She added quietly.

The ledrene stared at her in amazement, then jumped as the hungriest cub darted out of his position and grabbed one of the hares. He dodged her scolding nip with expert practice and settled down to feast. Sensing defeat, the ledrene waved her tail- a signal for the other wolves to emerge. They ran for their share of the meat with more decorum but no less desperate hunger as the cub. The ledrene waited until they had taken their share, then walked up to the stranger. Deliberately, she placed her paw on the last hare and stared at the other wolf. She still stood with her head lowered, not even glancing at the feast going on around her.

_One __hare__ for every wolf in my pack, but none for yourself?_ The ledrene said. _You don't think like a wolf. You could have bought information with two dead sparrows. You'd know that, if you've truly been watching us. _

_You looked hungry_. The wolf repeated. The ledrene sniffed and did not reply, taking a large bite from the hare. Bones crackled in her jaws.

_Hmm.__ My name is Fenni. I am ledrene of the Tundra Pack. You have my thanks. _

The wolf raised her head, tail waving slightly as the tension between them broke. _Greetings__ Fenni-of-Tundra._ _I am Daine. I am... I have no pack._

Fenni paused mid-chew, glancing around at the rest of her pack before looking up. _You know the pack lore. You respected me as ledrene. You must have been in a pack, once. _

_It was in Galla_. The wolf replied slowly. Fenni blinked, and then returned to her meal, losing interest in the conversation. Galla was a long way away, and a human name, and a ledrene is not expected to know everything after all. The hare was gone all too quickly, a few short bites and it was gone. She looked wistfully at the bloodstain in the snow but restrained herself from licking up the liquid, knowing that around her the cubs were doing just that.

_What did you want to know, Daine-of-No-Pack? _She asked, laying down in the snow and grooming a front paw elegantly. Even the small meal had left her feeling bloated, although she knew she would be hungry again soon. The cubs finished their meal and lay beside their mother, dozing in happy fullness. Daine remained standing.

_I want to know about the humans on this mountain. _

_There are many humans on this mountain. _Fenni said lazily. _They come and they go. They eat and they leave the bones by the path. We fight the rats for them. _

Daine shifted from paw to paw uneasily, then sat down in the snow opposite Fenni. The pool of blood froze between them.

_One of them died near here. I found the blood. I'm looking for the person who killed him. _

Fenni stared at her blankly, pausing in her grooming. One of the cubs yawned widely next to her and settled back down to sleep. _Why on earth would you want to do that, Daine-of-No-Pack? _

Daine's eyes flickered momentarily with something like rage. _They say my mate killed people, but he didn't. If I can find the person who really murdered that man, then I can clear his name. And I can tear the bastard's throat out. _She growled. Fenni looked at her approvingly.

_Many of the People refuse to kill humans. I am glad to meet another who shares my view. I and the Tundra Pack will help you, provided you continue to help us hunt. _

Daine waved her tail happily and bowed her head in acceptance. _Do you know who it was, then? _

_Yes. There were two human females. One smelled of frost and forest, the other of salt and sand. We were following the woman-of-sand. She was dying on her own, and if she died... _the wolf made an almost apologetic gesture and glanced at her cubs. _My pack will not kill humans, but we are starving. And meat is meat. _

_I understand. _Daine said automatically, forcing her stomach not to rebel. _So the... the woman-of-sand killed the human?_

_No. The human male was following her. Between the two of them the air stank for miles around. __Humans._Fenni sniffed disgustedly. _The woman walked for days without rest or shelter until she collapsed. The man was just about to leave her to us when the woman-of-frost walked out of the trees. She killed the man. It was very exciting. _She yawned widely, as if contradicting herself. _And then she took the woman-of-frost away. My cubs went hungry that night. _

Daine blinked in confusion. Fenni looked at her expression and misinterpreted, rolling back her lip in a snarl.

_I suppose you are wondering why I would expose my pack to this cruel __winter?__To this starvation?__ Why are we so desperate that we would think of eating human meat?_

_I did wonder why there was only one pack in this area. _Daine admitted, not revealing her true confusion. To pry any deeper would make the ledrene suspicious. As far as the wolf was concerned, she had answered the question completely. Her sudden hostility made the message clear- the question session was over. Nothing more needed to be discussed.

_We volunteered to stay behind when the rest of the packs left. Half of the Tundra-Pack left with them. They went towards the Hag-Star. _

_North?_Daine asked before she could help herself. The wolf blinked, then continued.

_This is the other condition that I put to you. The Tundra Pack will help you in any way we can, provided that you help the Tundra Pack in return. _

_Help us to make the screaming stop. _


	16. Chapter 15: Mediating Meditating

A/N: Heya folks! Sorry for the lack of updates recently- lots of interviews, earthquakes and revising going on. :P So this is a very short update, but I should have more time this week :)

(Also, look at the title of this update! I'm very proud of it! Say it 5 times fast and win a cookie :D)

Tundra

Chapter 15: Mediating Meditating

One...

...Two...

...Three...

Meditating was easier now. Before, sitting in the cold and the dark, his mind had simply shut down.

...four...

...five...

The blanket and food Ged had brought had been useful, but he had blown out the candle. The light was distracting. It made the whole room visible- such a tiny, claustrophobic room, enclosed underground. He had to will himself not to imagine that he was buried alive under sixty feet of rock.

...six...

...seven...

Besides, it was stupid to feel shut in when he knew it was easy to see daylight again. All he had to do was concentrate...

...seven...

...six...

...five...

Clearing his mind of thoughts wasn't quite so easy, though. He'd barely chased one away when another took its place. There were too many distractions.

...four...

Every breath he held burned his chest as it stretched the bruises on his ribs. His right eye was almost swollen shut anyway, yet it protested being closed. His left eye wept in sympathy, and the slow trickle of involuntary tears was distracting. Those soldiers must have had a lot of resentment to fuel their attack.

...three...

He had to stop feeling sorry for himself!

...two...

He cleared his mind, and concentrated, and the walls faded.

...one...

He opened his eyes. The world shone with the wonder of the Gift. The prison walls disappeared completely, leaving only the bright shadows of their element. He sighed, relieved that at least the headsman hadn't thought to shield the walls of the cell. If the simple spell had been used, he wouldn't have even been able to see past the stones. Very few people knew that the shielding spell, besides masking sound and sight, also kept out the minds of meditating mages. Although it seemed obvious enough... what good was a masking spell if the first lesson of magic could defeat it?

That was the main difference between sending out a mind, or severing a spirit- the mind could be stopped by simple walls of magic. It was a simple loose particle of thought, something that could see and think but not influence or speak.

Of course... once you've seen where things are, there's nothing to stop you from sending magic straight to them.

And so he sent his mind out, past the prison walls, and into the daylight.

The world was beautifully different, and completely the same. A thousand images flitted past his eyes in an instant. They spun through his mind, too fast to see, and burned their evanescent trails on his eyelids. He filtered the images carefully, aware of each one for a second before scrying somewhere else.

Snow falling on the mountains.

An old woman, bent double under the weight of firewood she was carrying, laughing at a younger woman's joke.

Smoke drifting from a deserted village.

A lone robin calling from a bare tree branch.

A young man lighting a pipe with shaking hands. His eyes darted nervously from side to side.

Grey waves beating against a slate-coloured shore.

A mangy pack of wolves, their patchy fur nearly invisible against the snow.

There!

He stopped the flow of images suddenly, his head aching at the sudden stop, and pulled back the grey building into his mind. In a country full of wooden houses, this building was made of stone. It was nearly hidden away in a copse of trees, nearly buried by the snow, but he had found it.

He sighed with relief, nearly startling himself out of the meditation, and looked closer. It had to have been here somewhere, he knew it- he was just surprised he'd found it so quickly. The glitter of the gift was conspicuously absent from the rest of the mountains, here it shone like a sun.

Headsman's Laurent's words had worried him more than he would even admit to himself- the idea that the gift was evil was bad enough, but the man was hinting that they had every mage in their realm under military control. He had seemed to look down on mages as inferior- and there weren't any in his entourage, so it stood to reason that all the mages were being 'kept' in one place.

Numair knew mages.

He knew they wouldn't like imprisonment at all.

The prison had proved his point, and he congratulated himself. If there were any independent mages in the army, then the prison would have been more secure. The building he had just found glittered with the many magics of shield spells, containing and inhibiting the mages within. The spells shone with many colours- more than one mage was casting them.

He frowned as he glared at the barrier. It seemed inpenetrable- the spells overlapped so much that any weaknesses were gone. Of course it wouldn't be completely invincible- he prided himself that he could at least out-magic a group of mountain mages- but it would take time. And time is what he might not have.

Once he was through the barrier, things would be easy.

He broke the meditation, ate and drank, and set to work.


	17. Chapter 16: Losing Myself

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Tundra

Chapter 16: Losing Myself

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The pack scoured the mountain effortlessly, searching for food. They made fast time, stopping every few hours to hide from the Human Packs that walked through the passes. As the day wore on, more and more travellers would force them into hiding as the humans braved the midday weather. Fenni growled under her breath as they crouched under a dripping copse of ferns.

_Stupid, slow moving clods! _She shook herself impatiently, sending drops flying in all directions. _Why should we hide just because they walk on two paws? _

Daine glanced at her. The Ledrene's silvery fur was matted against her skin, making her angry amber eyes look larger and angrier. The glowing orbs were fixed on the humans as they walked past.

But she was Ledrene, and it was her right to defend the pack from anything she saw as a threat. Even humans.

Daine had been worried, at first, that it would be difficult to keep up with the pack. The autumn cubs were smaller and weaker than the adults, but slow starvation and weariness had worn the rest of the pack down to a slower pace. She was vaguely aware that her paws hurt but the snow had thankfully numbed them.

The trail they followed were rough and overgrown. Daine guessed that, with most of the wolf packs gone from the area, many of the trails must have disappeared altogether. Fenni followed it automatically, her ears pricked warily, but the cubs looked around themselves with open curiosity.

_Haven't you been here before?_ Daine asked the nearest one. Several nearby adults glanced around disapprovingly at the Vagrant for breaking the habitual silence, but the cub didn't seem to notice.

_No._ He snapped at a bramble as it snagged on his fur. _Last time mother came this way, we were still in the den. _

One of the adults growled menacingly. _You're old enough to have some manners, Liff! Call the Ledrene by her proper title!_

The cub yawned nonchalantly. _Fine.__ The Ledrene came here when we were cubs, and Uncle Hami looked after us. _He nodded at the adult, who bared his teeth warningly.

Why did the Ledrene come this way before? Daine asked, trying to sooth the sarcastic cub. The adult quickly cut across Liff's stream of babble.

_It was in the time of no meat. Our Ledrene began watching the human trails for food. It was useless- usually they throw food __away when__ they have finished with it, but this winter they ate every crumb. Then she noticed the Woman-of-Frost. She was fat. Our Ledrene figured she must have food. Then she realised the woman was fat with young._ He shifted on his paws uneasily, breaking the easy pack-pace.

_So?_ Daine asked. The wolf stopped altogether, glancing towards Fenni. She was far away at the front of the pack, out of earshot.

So... she decided to steal the baby.

Daine gasped. Surely the pack disagreed!

Hami's lip curled _Of course! We do not attack humans, or they send packs to hunt us down. _His voice grew quieter. _But... we cannot argue with our Ledrene, especially when she has newborn cubs to feed. __There is a madness that takes her over, which makes her stronger. __Our duty is to the young- the pack- and we will do whatever she says is necessary to protect it._ _She said the woman was alone- that she had no pack to hunt us with- and the choice was between the lives of human cubs or our own._ He shrugged and started walking again._ Put like that, it makes sense._

_And...__did__ she steal the baby?_

_Not yet. We found a rabbit warren and for a time the madness faded. But now, you have given her an excuse again- revenge. The woman who she is hunting is the one who you say attacked your mate. _

_Stop talking back there!_ Snapped the leader before Daine could think of an answer. _Humans are near!_

As one, the pack melted into the trees. They continued their march in silence for a while, listening to the destructive crashing of the humans as they made their way down the path. Daine quickened her pace until she found herself near Fenni. The Ledrene glanced at her without a greeting, and then gestured ahead.

_I will show you where the Woman-of-Frost is, so you can return for your revenge after you have found the Screaming._ She glanced at Daine. _You will not kill a human while my cubs are nearby- once you return to this place you are no longer welcome in my pack. _

_I understand_. Daine replied. Fenni smiled with her eyes and resumed her silent trudge.

They stopped abruptly in a place that seemed as featureless as the rest of the trail. The pack gathered behind them in a silent audience.

_Here we are._ Fenni said. _Remember this place. _

_Um... where?_ Daine asked, looking for a house or building. Fenni snarled impatiently.

_Use your nose!_

Daine ducked her head, embarrassed, and sniffed the air. Sure enough, there was the smell of smoke and of tanned skins, the smell of food and the soft, malty tang of bread. And above it all, the overpowering, salty reek of humans. A mixture of sweat, grease and dirt utterly unique to mankind. Daine had to stop herself from flinching in surprise at the smell, reminding herself that to a wolf such pungency was commonplace.

_You smell it?_ Fenni waited for Daine's nod. _Good. Now I will show you the cave._ She turned to the pack. _Stay here and wait for us. Hami, look after the cubs. _

There was a universal groan from the youngest members of the pack. _But, Mother... _whined Liff.

Fenni spun around and nipped her cub sharply. _Do as you're told! _

Liff laid his ears back, cowed, and backed away into the mass of wolves. Fenni glared around at the silent pack. _Any more objections?__ No? Good!_

Daine followed her as she stalked off, feeling awkward. Fenni obviously thought that the pack was on the verge of rebellion- and from what Hami had told her, she could see why. Fenni was losing control, and soon one of the other females in the pack would have enough support to feel strong enough to challenge her for the position of Ledrene.

_Even I could do it. _She thought, then drove the idea from her mind fearfully. _Stop it. You're a human. Remember! _

Fenni led her to a small, close copse of trees, resting against a rocky cliff face. They had grown so close together that now their boughs seemed to grow from one tree. At some point one of the trees had died, rotting slowly away and leaving a slight gap. The slow flicker of firelight danced through the gap, revealing part of the rocky core that was, otherwise, completely hidden by the forest.

_We used to use it as a summer den-_ Fenni started, and abruptly stopped as the firelight was blocked out. Before they had time to head for cover, a human woman emerged from the tree. She had a handful of snares in one hand and was humming happily.

Fenni had also caught sight of the snares. Her hackles rose as she bared her teeth in sudden fury. Despite what she'd said to Daine about not killing the woman, she suddenly realised Fenni had made no such promise about herself. From what Hami had said, she hated this woman. She was only looking for an excuse.

_There's a madness that takes her over... _Daine remembered, and suddenly realised what Hami meant. Fenni's eyes glowed with a peculiar light, frightening and luminous, like those of a demon. The pack saw this light as strength, as courage. It made them feel safe.

It terrified Daine.

And then Fenni turned her eyes on Daine, and she was dragged back into the pack mentality. The pack, the Ledrene, must be protected... must be obeyed.

_She's stealing our food!_ Fenni snarled, a deep growl building in her throat. The woman looked up and dropped the snares. She shrieked, dropped to the ground, and grabbed fistfuls of rocks.

"Get away!" She screamed, throwing the first rock. It fell short. The second whistled through the air. Fenni yelped as it struck her shoulder, drawing blood. She returned the paw deliberately to the ground and snarled.

Daine stayed perfectly still while this was going on, watching with detachment. She knew what she must do. The human was a threat, Fenni was standing her ground, and the Ledrene must be obeyed. The lore was simple. The human half of her mind was a whirl of furious thought.

Besides, this was the woman who had killed the soldier. This was the woman who had framed Numair. She watched her with passivity, honestly doubting that this screaming coward was capable of it.

Fenni took a step forwards, her constant growl now amplified by the voices of the pack around them. The woman froze in terror, the stones dropping from her hands. She and Fenni stared at each other. Green met bronze in a silent battle for dominance. The freezing air slowed down as they dared each other to make the wrong move.

And the silence broke.

"Rowan?"

Daine visibly flinched. Fenni stopped growling momentarily, not looking round.

_Fear, Wolf?_ She sniped angrily. Daine shook her head, more to cover her shock than to argue with the wolf who, for a few moments, she had genuinely thought of as her leader. The shock of hearing Alanna's voice drew her rapidly back into her human core with a physical jolt. She thought rapidly.

_I... I have met the other human before._ She faltered, _She is... dangerous._

_Dangerous._ Fenni echoed flatly. The light dimmed slightly within her eyes as she looked around for her cubs, and then abruptly grew in brilliance once again. She resumed growling without another word, the pack emerging from the trees around her as if by command.

_Why is Alanna here? _Daine thought desperately. A sudden, sickening thought occurred to her. _Dear goddess, it isn't Alanna they're searching for, is it? Did she kill that man? Did she... start the plague? _

For a moment, her mid was filled with blinding pain, a thousand voices clamouring for attention- Wolf and Daine and Truth and Lie, a confusion of belief and fact and suspicion and desperation...

_...it can't be right..._

_...they're hunting for a Tortallan mage..._

_...the ledrene says it is true..._

_...she's with the murderer..._

_...the ledrene is always right..._

_...the plague was started by a powerful magic..._

_...the ledrene?__ I'm human! I'm human... I'm..._

_...I'm losing myself..._

_with __the murderer..._

_...they killed..._

_...I can't control it any more..._

_...killed..._

Without realising what she was doing, Daine-of-Galla took a pace forward, matching her Ledrene's attack loyally, step-for-step. The Ledrene's tail waved slightly, approvingly. They advanced on the Humans.

Rowan gasped at this new assault, her paralysis broken, and took a step backwards. Behind her, Alanna appeared in the mouth of the cave. She saw the woves, paled, and made a split decision.

Fenni sprang.

Daine was barely a breath behind her.

_...killed..._

Violet fire poured from Alanna's hands, forming a wall between the wolves and Rowan. Both animals howled as the struck the wall, twisting in the air as they fell. Yelping, they fled into the forest with the pack following closely behind.

Alanna watched them go- a brown Gallan wolf among a pack of silver Scanran mountain wolves- and shook her head slowly.

"I must be seeing things." She muttered to herself.

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It took Rowan a long time to stop shaking. Even though she sat close to the fire, her skin remained white and bloodless. Occasionally, when the shivers eased, her dilated eyes would flicker towards the cave opening and the trembling would begin anew.

Alanna left her to it, bringing in the traps and building up the fire. She felt perversely happy about the whole affair. Despite the biting pain in her hands and feet as she walked and worked, she was delighted to be able to do something. She sympathised with Rowan's fear- it was such a strange thing, for wolves to hunt humans, that it even unnerved Alanna slightly. But at the same time, she was impatient for the girl to grow a damn backbone! Now that she was up and about, she felt like she should pay off her debt as quickly as possible, then hurry after George. If she was going to have to nursemaid the girl all the way to the Bronzers it might take a long time...

As if guessing her thoughts, Rowan glanced up. "Most people would have said something comforting." She said through blue lips. Alanna rolled her eyes.

"There, there." She drawled sarcastically, "I'm not the sympathetic type. You're not hurt."

"No." Rowan wrapped her arms around her stomach and shuddered. "But..."

"But nothing." Alanna found the stack of supplies that Rowan had gathered and began searching through it. She suddenly felt desperate to get out of this pathetic little cave, to walk around in the winter sun. To be doing _something_. "Did you save my things?"

Rowan bit her lip. "No... I thought..."

Alanna held up a hand to interrupt her. "Then I'm going to go and find them. Now." Having stunned Rowan into silence, she wrapped a couple of blankets around herself and wished there were more warm clothes around. Her hand screamed icily when she picked up a rough knife, but she ignored it.

She was half out of the door when she heard Rowan's voice behind her.

"Please... promise me you'll come back?" She asked quietly. "I'm frightened."

Alanna tried to keep the scorn out of her voice. "I promise."

She tucked the knife into her belt, turned away from the cave, and followed the wolves.


	18. Chapter 17: Stop!

A/N: Sorry for the long hiatus, been on a training course with my orchestra. But I've got a break now to catch up on my English studies, and "creative writing" always gets priority. ;) So, two chapters to upload. The first concerns Ged acting like an idiot, and I hope you enjoy it! :)

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Tundra

Chapter 17: Stop!

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There was a clear path that led through the snow between the prison and the town, but Ged knew better than to take it. Before the hour was out the woods were full of the cries of the guards, searching for the escaped prisoner. From the sound of some of the shouts, they didn't seem too keen to find him. Ged grinned. Word of his escape had spread.

But what to do next? He thought about the question as he strolled leisurely down the frozen rocks of a riverbed. The slow moving stream of water that hadn't quite frozen washed away his footprints behind him. It was easy for Numair to just tell him to find Daine- but he didn't have the slightest idea where she was. He also had no idea where _he_ was. His Shang-trained skills of searching were useless in this place, where every snow-covered tree looked like every snow-covered boulder. So... not that idea, then.

Numair's second suggestion appealed to him much more. It had been so easy- too easy- to outsmart the guards. Ged was scornful of any country that didn't train its military to the highest possible standards... but even he couldn't believe that those soldiers were anything like the best of Scanra. He felt sure that the military were up to something.

The idea formed in his mind... and wouldn't go away. He absently crouched behind a copse of hedges and watched a patrol of soldiers thunder noisily past. Why would the government catch what they thought was a hardened criminal... and then give him every opportunity to escape?

They want him to escape! Ged bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from laughing out loud. They know they have nothing to convict him with, so they want him to escape. Then, when he's free, _then_ they'll send in the cavalry. It's a classic set-up. They must be pretty damn disappointed that he's decided to be a good little mage.

So that means... Ged grinned and started walking again, stepping in the footprints the soldiers had left behind. That means that there are still a lot of soldiers out there, just waiting to be outsmarted by yours truly.

He did laugh out loud this time, and quickened his pace. The winter wind bit at him through his thin clothes. He forced the sting of it out of his mind.



There wasn't really any problem in finding the military bases in this country. The forests were thick with signs- both trail scrawl and mage marks littering tree trunks and rocks. He didn't recognise all of the signs, but understood enough to follow them in the right direction. On the off-chance that the mage marks were scrying spells, he waved cheerfully at them on his way past.

The marks became more regular and even less concealed the further along the trail he went. He began searching for each new one with eager eyes, an unusual enthusiasm sending adrenalin through his veins. As he ran, he became more and more convinced that surely, surely, in a country as stupid as this, he could defeat the enemy. He could become a hero. He would teach them not to use obvious signs, to hire weak guards, to use such obvious tricks...!

His pace accelerated until he was sprinting along the various trails. Every time he reached a corner he barely stopped to check the signs, skidding round each corner at high speeds. The wind whipped his hair savagely across his face. He grinned with the thrill of battle, the bloodlust of the brave, and sped on.

The trees flew past.

"STOP!"

A scream! Was it a word, was it a command? A woman was screaming...

Ged barely registered the sound. His aching muscles begged for rest as he ran on.

"STOP!"

The word again, the scream! It hammered into his mind, blanking out all other thoughts for a fraction of a moment. The pain of it froze his mind into white panic. The shock winded him, all the air rushing from his lungs as if he'd been hit.

He skidded to a halt. Grit and ice scraped under his hands as he fell forward, suddenly aware of his burning lungs and muscles. The driving bloodlust abruptly disappeared as he fell to his knees, coughing. Every breath he drew tasted sweet and coppery, and scalded his throat.

The words pounded through his mind with every beat of his heart. They sounded almost amused now.

"It is unlike you to fall for such a trick, Ged Shurin."

"Tuh... trick?" Ged gasped. The voice laughed sardonically but made no other comment as the Wolf stood up, clutching at his winded stomach. He looked around the trail, but there was no-one there. The path seemed peaceful, quiet, and safe.

He looked around for the speaker, suddenly wary. The path rose up a slight hill. He climbed to the top and looked over, wondering if this man was hiding in the lee.

There was no man. There wasn't even a path. The route stopped in a deep pit, its mouth covered by the rise in the path. Savage looking spears were driven into the base of the pit.

A bear trap.



Ged looked at the mage signs, starkly obvious in the bottom of the pit, and fought to keep himself from throwing up. Calling spells. Of course. He'd been following a string of spells designed to call people, to make them run, to make them want to reach the end of the path. A spell designed to make them run to their death.

He'd fallen for it.

"Dear gods." He whispered. "Maybe they're not so stupid after all."

The voice laughed again. Now the spells weren't clouding his mind, Ged recognised the sound all too well. He fell to his already-frozen knees in the snow and bowed his head to the ground.

"Lord Hunter!" He cried, "You have saved my life!"

The god made a snorting sound- whether in acknowledgement or derision, Ged didn't know.

"I had my reasons for doing it. Stand up, child."

"Reasons, Lord Hunter?" Ged didn't bother to look around now. If the God wanted to be seen then he would be. Before either of them could say another word, the scream tore around the clearing once again. Lord Hunter's voice was impassive, a complete contrast to the terror in the woman's voice.

"Consider it... an answer to a prayer. Be more careful in future. And follow the wolves." The voice faded until it was only mildly unbearable, and then vanished completely. Ged bowed in response, knowing that Lord Hunter was already gone, and was suddenly alert again.

The screaming was loud and shrill enough to be quite close to here- wherever _here_ was. He could vaguely remember having run for miles, and probably in the wrong direction. He could either try to retrace his tracks... without looking at any signs at all... or he could rescue the damsel in distress.

He had to admit, that had a nicer ring to it.

It took him a while to find the source of the screaming. The path was near the base of one of the many cliffs in the area, the sounds echoing strangely. Nervous of looking at the trail sign, he kept his eyes close to the ground, searching more for footprints than for obvious landmarks. The wolf prints that were scattered across the ground made him smile. Cheerfully, he began to follow the wolf trail. He had barely encountered his namesake before he had met Daine, seeing only the hardy, scrawny island wolves that occasionally scavenged in his home town. He admired them for their cunning and stealth, but these mountain wolves were completely different. Their power was hypnotic.

The screams had faded slightly now, but he knew he was closer. He was close enough for the cliffs to fling back the softer sound of sobbing to his ears. He was glad the woman was crying- he'd been afraid she'd fallen into one of the bear traps, where the halting of her cries would have meant she was already dead. But she was crying- she was still alive- so he could still help her.



The crying was loudest near a tiny slit in the wall of the cliff. Wolf prints abounded, but the freshest prints were human. Ged wondered fleetingly whether the woman had been attacked by wolves or soldiers, then realised it was neither. There was no blood in the snow, no sign of a battle.

_Why don't you just ask the woman? _He thought, nearly cursing at his suspicious nature. His furtive glances at the trees showed no sign of the mage signs. The clearing was nearly hidden away from the trails- although the wolves obviously knew it well. The prints led away from the clearing again, but the woman was here- he was sure of it.

The cave was dark. A tiny fire was guttering madly in one corner, nearly down to its last ember. Blinded by the brightness of the snow, he blinked a few times.

The light glittered on the dull knife blade as it whistled silently towards him. Cursing in Yamani, he dodged quickly away from it, out of the cave.

A pair of over-bright eyes glistened above the blade in the entranceway. "Stay away from me."

Ged eyed the blunt weapon and decided, for the moment, to let her keep it. He slouched against the cave entrance and nonchalantly took out his own knife, making a show of throwing it into the snow. The woman's knife never faltered, although her eyes narrowed.

"Are you alright, miss?" He asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"I'm _fine_." The woman said through gritted teeth.

"So it wasn't you I heard screaming?" Ged asked lightly. The woman's eyes flickered uneasily but she stood still. "Alright, my mistake." He touched his forelock in a gesture of respect and made as if to walk away.

"You forgot your knife." The woman said, her voice slowing down thoughtfully. "Your accent... you're not Scanran, are you?"

"No, miss. Yamani, miss." Ged picked up his knife, taking care to hold it more clumsily than usual. The woman lowered her own knife in reply.

"I'm sorry. I thought you were one of them." She eyed the knife ruefully, then threw it backwards into the cave. "And a lot of good that would have done me if you wanted to kill me, right?" She made as if to walk out of the cave, then doubled over in pain. Ged could see the cords of her throat tighten as she fought not to scream.

"It was you I heard screaming, wasn't it?" He said flatly. The woman didn't answer. He took a step towards her. "Did someone attack you? Have you been hurt?"

"No!" The woman's snapped answer had rueful laughter in it. "I'm having a baby."

A baby! Ged took an involuntary step backwards. This was a woman's business, not his! What was the God thinking, sending him here? He fumbled uncertainly for something to say.

"Here?"



"No, in Galla." The woman rejoined sarcastically. "Of course here."

"Now?"

"Do I have to roll my eyes at you before you stop asking stupid questions?" The woman's voice was light, but something glittered in her eyes. Ged saw it, and felt some of his own panic fade away in pity for this strange creature.

"You're frightened." He said softly. The woman nearly flinched. "Don't you have any friends who can help you?"

"I wouldn't accept help from a complete stranger, if that's what you mean. You needn't trouble yourself." She straightened up, raising her chin proudly. Ged felt a flash of admiration for the woman's sheer bravado. From the whispers he'd overheard from some of his female "friends" at court, she must be in agony. And yet he was prepared to bet she'd stay here, warding him off, until the baby was born, without batting an eyelid.

"Can I fetch you someone, miss?" He asked. The woman's eyes were suddenly thoughtful. She glanced up the trail. Ged wasn't surprised to see that once again he'd be following the wolf prints.

"She left about an hour ago. You can see her footprints. Thank you." She said shortly. Ged reached out and grabbed her arm before she could hide in the cave again. Her skin was icy cold.

"What's her name? And yours? So she'll believe me."

The girl shook off his hand. "I'm Rowan. She's called Alanna. She's a knight. She's gone to look for her sword."

Ged stared at her in disbelief. "Did you say _Alanna?"_

The woman's eyes were unreadable. "That's right." She shut her eyes in pain for a moment, and then turned away without a word of farewell. Ged took off his backpack and put it inside the cave entrance before setting off at a run.

_It can't be the same person. _He thought, trying to force the stories Numair had told him out of his mind. _It's too much of a coincidence. _

The god seemed to laugh in reply.

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	19. Chapter 18: Hunting

A/N: And the second chapter... this one's rather short. Sorry. :(

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Tundra

Chapter 18: Hunting

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The wolves knew they were being followed from the start. The scent of the human was almost overpowering in the clear wash of snow. Only Daine's vague hint at danger stopped Fenni from confronting the woman. Instead, they doubled their pace.

They were slightly annoyed when the woman managed to keep up.

Fenni snarled, and the wolves shaped their pack into a defensive position. For half an hour they padded on at high speed. Fenni didn't slow down when her cubs began to complain, nor did she notice the cut on her shoulder steadily bleeding.

But they stopped at the lure of meat. The temptation was too strong to resist. A complete warren of rabbits, hidden from the travellers by the rocky mountain crags that surrounded it, and deliciously overcrowded. The human was a few miles behind, and they were hungry. The hunt began.

Daine joined in as avidly as the others. She wasn't as hungry, but the pack urge was stronger than their simple starving desperation- the desire to hunt, to kill- the simplest passions of all. Even the new cubs revelled in the chase. The part of Daine that was still human watched herself with faint nausea. The part of her that was a wolf took over with delight.

All of them, including Fenni, were so caught up in the hunt that they failed to notice the human had caught up. The bloodstained ground was littered with a dozen patchy skeletons and even more half-devoured bodies, each one with its own ravenous hunter.

Daine looked up from her kill before the others did, her hunger sated, and caught sight of Alanna. The woman had hidden herself well, but there was no way she could disguise her red hair in a green- and- white forest. Her eyes were fixed on Daine, although she glanced at the other members of the pack from time to time.

Daine sighed dramatically and stood up, padding over to Fenni. _I'm going to scout the area. _She said.

Fenni barely looked up. _Fine. Be back. We move on soon. _

Happy to have her beloved Ledrene's permission, Daine walked nonchalantly over to the copse of trees where she'd spotted Alanna. The woman was now completely hidden- Daine guessed blearily that she'd wanted to be seen. As soon as she had a thicket of bushes between herself and the pack, Alanna reappeared.



"It is you, isn't it, Daine?" She said flatly. "I had to double check, but I'm sure now."

Daine-the-Wolf looked up at the human, fighting her human mind for dominance. Daine-the-Human won, but found shape shifting much more difficult than she ever had before. She had to focus on the other human, reminding herself of how many hands and feet she was supposed to have.

Alanna's eyes were tightly closed. "Tell me when you're finished." She commented, "it makes me nauseous."

"I'm finished." Daine said thickly through unfamiliar lips. Alanna opened her eyes and smiled, taking a step towards her. Daine backed off, snarling through clenched teeth, then remembered herself.

"No closer." She said shortly, "Smell of human."

Alanna gave her an odd look, but stayed where she was. Daine forced Daine-the-Wolf away for a moment. Hot fury coursed through her veins as she looked at this woman.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She growled.

"There was plague in my home. My family came this way to get away from it. I followed them. What...?" She began, and then stopped as Daine started laughing- a low, guttural laugh completely unlike her normal voice.

"It _is _your fault!" She wiped a tear away from the corner of one eye. "Look! Wolves can't cry!" Her voice rose triumphantly. "Not wolf yet. Get my revenge first. Wolf after."

"Daine, what on earth are you talking about?" Alanna asked, bewildered. The girl straightened up, the laughter still playing in her eyes.

"You don't know? It's your fault!" She swept a hand around the clearing expansively. "All this. Plague. Dying. Screaming." Daine-the-Human shone through her eyes for a moment, pathetically. "Numair's in prison. They say he did it. But it's your fault."

"What is?" Alanna demanded, losing her temper. Daine's eyes narrowed at the rise in her voice. Almost without conscious thought, claws began re-growing on her hands. She glared at Alanna's expression with an almost hypnotised look in her eyes- a strange mixture of human and wolf, feral and tame, furious and inescapable sorrowful.

"Daine, I don't know what you think I've done, but I swear I haven't done anything to hurt you... or Numair." Alanna said quickly. The girl didn't reply. "If you tell me what's wrong, I can help you. I..."

The girl snarled, her face becoming more and more feral be the second. "Lies!" She snapped through a mouth no longer suited to talking. "Ledrene said- your fault! Saw you!"

Alanna drew a breath, but before she could say another word the wolf had sprung. She rolled with the attack, throwing Daine over her shoulder before the girl could sink her claws into her, wondering what was going on.



Daine spun around, growling. She now looked completely like a wolf- and more like a Scanran wolf than she had before, leaner and more savage. She crouched low to the ground, ready to spring again.

Alanna drew her dagger and pointed it at the wolf, her hand shaking. "Don't do it, Daine. You're not yourself. You don't know what you're doing."

The creature growled a second time, but then abruptly raised her head and sniffed the air. Her hackles flattened and she whined before howling for the pack. In the distance, a chorus of howls answered her. Daine turned and ran back to the pack without a backwards glance. The sound of running paws through snow drifted into the distance.

Alanna looked in the direction she had caught the scent from and froze. A stocky man in Yamani dress was standing at the side of the clearing, his arms folded across his chest against the cold.

"What's wrong with Daine?" He asked. Alanna blinked, the laughed abruptly.

"You know her too, stranger? Why am I not surprised?"

"If there was ever a person for having strange friends, it's Daine." He said wryly. "But we don't have time to swap stories at the moment. Can you talk while you run?"

"It depends where too." Alanna said warily, sheathing the knife again. Apart from the disturbed snow, it was almost as if the whole disturbing meeting with Daine had never happened. And she knew no more now than she had when she set out to follow the girl!

"Your friend sent me. Raven... Rowan." The Yamani man said, watching her coolly.

"How in Mithros's name do you know _her_?" Alanna said, exasperated. Ged tapped his fingers impatiently against the handle of his knife, forcing himself to stop when she glared at him. He decided to tell the truth.

"My patron God sent me to help her. Numair sent me to find Daine, and Rowan sent me to find you because _she's having a baby_." He said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Alanna stared at him, and then nodded.

"Let's go, then." She said.

They spoke as they ran, each taking turns to tell their side of the story. Alanna was pleased that this man- who said his name was Ged- was concise with his side of the story. She was surprised at his cursory explanation of the events at the Yamani court, and pleased when he told her of the soldiers that had been sent to Tortall, but found herself worrying more and more about Daine.

"Why didn't you go with the other soldiers?" She found herself asking. Ged glanced at her, skirting easily around a frozen puddle. He guessed that mentioning Daine to this woman might be suicidal, and chose the easy option.



"Something's very wrong here. They're making a massive army." He began to describe the defences Numair had told him about. Alanna listened carefully, and then told him about the Bronzers. Ged nodded as she finished.

"There are mage traps all over the other side of the mountain." He said, "I haven't seen any on this side. Nothing powerful, but enough to trap you if you're not careful."

Alanna slowed down. Ged noticed with surprise that they'd almost reached the cave. The thrill of finding out extra information had distracted him. She slowed to a walk, suddenly practical.

"You should stay out for now. You can get firewood or melt some water if you like, but you'll only be in the way in the cave. And don't say or do anything to put her in any more of a panic than she's probably already in."

Ged nodded. Alanna stopped and lowered her voice. "And the last thing, Ged, is- please don't tell Rowan any of what you've just told me. It'd be a bad idea. The Bronzers killed her family, and Numair killed her sister, and she's got a death-wish as it is. Knowing anything else might just send her over the edge."

Before Ged could question any of this, the redhead ducked into the cave. There was quite a strong fire- apparently tending to it was something Rowan must be doing to keep her mind off her labour. She was sitting against one of the walls; her hands were wrapped around her stomach, and she was looking at Alanna accusingly.

"You left me." She said. Alanna sat down on the opposite side of the fire, wishing she had her medicine kit- but the girl had left it to moulder in the snow with the rest of her belongings.

"I didn't know you were having the baby, or I wouldn't have left." She replied, trying not to make her voice soothing. Rowan was obviously sharp enough to notice when she was being placated, and it would only make her nervous. She waited as the girl squeezed her eyes tightly shut as another spasm of pain hit her. When her eyes reopened there were tears in the corners.

"I thought you would never come back! I've been so fri-ghtened!" She sobbed. Alanna moved to sit next to her and hugged her, cursing herself for leaving the girl alone at all. She must have been feeling pains all morning, but she hadn't said anything. Alanna grinned suddenly, remembering acting exactly the same way when she was first expecting the twins. George had eventually threatened to confiscate her training equipment if she didn't stop doing clumsy sword drills. But it kept her mind off the pain. And she remembered yelling at him, and his cheeky grin as he let her, and prayed fervently to the Goddess that he was safe.

"It's alright now. I'm here," She said softly. "I'm sorry for being cruel to you earlier. I'm not really a...a friendly sort of person."

"I know." Rowan said, then covered her mouth and giggled unexpectedly. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean that the way I..."

Alanna smiled. "I know."



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	20. Chapter 19: Real Illusions

888

Tundra

Chapter 19: Real Illusions

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_It's in there._ Fenni said, her fur standing on end. She raised her lip gently as she peered into the cave, ignoring the frightened mewling of the pack in the forest a few meters away, where they had refused to come any closer. Daine padded slightly closer to the cave, hardly believing how _loud_ it was. The screaming- the same hopeless, continuous shriek she had heard when she touched the sick boy on the ship- was so intense here that each step closer to it was painful. She resisted the urge to shrink her sensitive wolf ears, aware that the others were watching her.

_Do you know what it is, Ledrene? _She asked cautiously, padding back to the leader. Fenni's lip rose in a soundless snarl.

_Of course I don't! We can't get any closer to it than this. We thought it might be a wounded cub, but not even my cubs are that loud! _She walked up to the mouth of the cave, as if contradicting herself, hardly blinking at the noise. _We're tired of hearing it all the time. It's making us say things... do things... that aren't quite... _

The wolf's voice tailed off as she stared into the cave. Daine thought of finishing the sentence for her, but she understood with the words unsaid; the screaming was unsettling, disturbing, gradually filling the ears and the mind and the soul until all that was left was the desire to run away. As close as they were to it, the compulsion was so strong that she had to lock her feet into place to stop them from fleeing. To a territorial animal like a wolf, the desire to run away from the pack-lands must be terrible.

Of course, they thought she was a Rogue wolf- one who was outcast from her pack. She hadn't been listening to the screaming for as long as they had, and she had no ties to the land- she wasn't as affected by the screaming as they were.

Yet. The part of her that was wolf wanted to turn and flee.

_This is where we part. _Fenni said shortly, and turned away to leave without another word. Daine resisted the urge to run after her pack- her pack was leaving her! For a second, the compulsion to run after them was almost as strong as the desire to run away from the screaming. She fought both, her legs aching with the effort of keeping the joints locked in place.

She looked back. The pack had melted into the silent trees. She was alone again. The ledrene had spoke- she must stay here, must complete her mission. She must make the screaming stop.

It was this fierce loyalty that helped her step forward. The violence of the force pushing her away from the cave was shocking- it was like walking through thick mud. Every step cost her a conscious effort.

_Alright!_ She screamed back at the voice. _I know! You're there, and I'm here, and whether you want me or not I'm coming in! _

There was an instant of blessed silence, as if the screaming had suddenly stopped. Then it began again, but this time the pressure didn't seem as bad. It was as if the screamer wasn't sure what they were screaming about any more- like a child having a tantrum. The sludge of mental pressure faded away enough for Daine to see where she was going; she was able to focus on other things than the noise. She looked around at the cave, cautiously wary.

To her surprise, the cave didn't look like one of the naturally formed caves the pack had rested in during their trek. There were no over-arching tree roots or weather-carved rocks. If she had to compare the cave to anything, she would have to say it looked more like a giant animal warren than anything else. The walls were smooth, the chalky mountain soil frozen and soaked into a glazed shine, but the ravages of the elements hadn't entirely hidden the tracks of claws across the walls, and even the ceiling. Daine had to step carefully to avoid tripping into one of the many gouges that was scored across the ground. For a fleeting moment, her thoughts became lucid and human.

_An Immortal's den, then?_ She thought, thinking of the cave the Spidren had made in Tortall. But this was different- that cave had been rough, collapsing into piles of dirt, while this one looked evenly formed and stable. After the initial rugged slope into deeper soil, the rough walls curved upwards in graceful arches. The tunnel wove in and out of the natural mountain caves. From time to time, a concealed hole in the ceiling let in the cold winter light. Whatever had made the tunnel had made it well.

_And I really, really hope it's not still in here, whatever it is. _Daine looked uneasily at the ceiling, _because it must be huge. _She fleetingly wished she could turn back into a human so she wouldn't feel so small, but the bitter underground cold would probably kill her. Then Daine-the-wolf took over again, reminding her of her duty to the pack, to the Ledrene. The wariness disappeared, and once again she was a creature of loyalty and obedience.

The tunnel led gently downwards, the root-ridden soil turning to black, untouched sods. Apart from the screaming it was completely silent. After about half a mile of caves, the sides of the tunnel began to look rougher. The tunnel maker didn't seem as concerned with the strength of its creation, it simply wanted to dig deeper into the mountain.

_Like it was hiding from something,_ she thought, and then shook her head. What on earth would something this big, this powerful, have to hide from?

The pools of light in the tunnel began to fade as the frozen sun set outside. Daine started relying on her sense of smell to see, like the ledrene had taught her. The cold, metallic smell of earth blended with the sharp tartness of leaf mould and the sweet promise of hidden streams of fresh meltwater. But there was something else... she raised her head and sniffed the air, the fur on her neck rising at the unfamiliar scent. Blended into the coppery decay around her was the sweeter scent of rotting meat, of death. It was faint, but every step she took made it perceptibly stronger.

She didn't need her eyes any more. She ran quickly through the darkness, following that smell. The pressure to leave lessened as the cave grew darker, but the walls began to flicker and waver with the glow of the Gift. Daine-the-wolf shook her head and ran on.

_Figures,_ Daine-the-human thought, the words very distant, _it would be something made of magic. _

And then, unbelievably, the cave stopped and there was a wooden barricade, impossible to a wolf to cross. She sat down and stared at it, wondering if she could scratch her way through.

A tiny tendril of human thought surfaced again, breaking through the mire of wild magic. _Look up._ She did, almost not recognising what she saw. The human part of her mind smiled and nodded, _There is a way through. _

It took an immense amount of effort for her to turn back into a human this time. Her nails stayed as claws, her teeth as sharp canines. She stood still a moment, finding it hard to balance on two feet. Her thoughts began to clear a little.

"It's a door," she said out loud, and shivered in the freezing air. It stood quite innocently in the rock, a simple cottage door, outlined in the glow of the gift. It seemed to be real, though- simple oak carved into a simple door. "Or maybe it's not a door. It's witched; Maybe it's a trap."

She stared at it, undecided, and shivered again in the damp, bitter cold. _Where else is there to go?_

The door handle slid downwards as smoothly as if it had been built the day before. The fire of the Gift that glowed around it ran over her hand as she touched it, and disappeared before she could work out what it was doing. Her hand had, apparently, passed inspection- and the door opened. When she saw what was on the other side, she gasped.

Every hint that she was deep underground, in a muddy cave, was gone in the depths of the illusion in the room. Trees lined both sides of the tunnel, arching over the forest pathway and scattering early autumn leaves amongst the flowers. Fresh green grass grew along the ground. Warm, sweet summer air blew through the doorway. The pink light of sunset bathed the path in a peaceful shroud.

Barely even conscious she was doing it, Daine stepped into the forest. The scent of flowers was in the air, the sound of birdsong carrying along the breeze. She reached down and picked a blade of grass, wondering how it was possible. As soon as the blade was in her hand, it turned into a chip of grey rock. As she stood up again, dusting the chip from her hands, she heard the door click shut behind her. Snarling in feral surprise at the sound, she spun around.

The door was gone. There was no hint that it had ever been there. All there was behind her was a moss-covered wall of rock, littered with star-shaped flowers. She clawed at the wall, looking for a way out. It seemed perfectly real, solid, and doorless. When she stepped away from the wall, the shreds of moss and petals that had caught under her claws turned back into the dank mud of the tunnel.

"So it is an illusion. Just a... a _real_ illusion." And as she started walking down the path, she realised how true this was. The flowers and trees seemed waxy and too bright, the sunset too perfect. The birds that she could hear singing couldn't answer her greetings, and under the sickly perfume of summer was that hint of death and blood. When she tripped over, still unsteady on human feet, it was sharp gravel that she fell on, not soft grass.

The path led to a clearing, and this time Daine could tell it was the actual end of the tunnel. The clearing was circular, too perfect to be anything but real. It was lined with the same trees and plants, and where they couldn't meet in the middle of the ceiling was the most beautiful sunset sky Daine had ever seen. But it wasn't that which caught her attention.

In the middle of the clearing, curled around like a sleeping cat, was an enormous dragon.


	21. Chapter 20: Sepulchral

A/N: Hiya everyone, and especially all of you who've been emailing asking me to continue my fanfics...! I swear I'm going to finish both this fic and "The Autumn Assignment", it just may take longer than it did with my other stories because of Uni! Anyway, here are some updates. ^_^

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Tundra

Chapter 20: Sepulchral

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Numair had also found the mage traps, although to his eyes they weren't hidden but were plainly obvious, glittering with the gift between the copper and green of the forest. Very few of them were made of one gift; most were the joint labour of two or more mages. He guessed that the mages were prohibited from using too much of their gift at once, so they couldn't hurt themselves or the people around them if it got out of control. They probably used the same sort of collars that Ozorne had on his slaves, to give themselves complete control. A few colours seemed more prominent than others- there was a deep blue, a pinkish red, and a bright green that seemed to be used more than others. Either these three mages were more proficient at making mage traps, or they were stronger than the others. Whichever it was, Numair now knew which people to look for. He had fashioned a rudimentary speaking spell in the prison, using wax from the candles to draw the shape on the floor rather than trusting his wandering mind to remember it. He keyed the other side of the spell to a fragment of his gift.

As he'd thought, it had only taken him a day or so to break through the barrier spell, at least enough to let his meditating mind slip past the defences unnoticed. The glare of the gift within the stone walls was blinding- many of the mages inside the building were untrained, or at least not trained how to control their gift. The light bulged and flickered as it was contained by the collars, but random bursts of errant gift lit the air as clearly as a Yamani firework. It was like walking through the middle of the fireplace to find the white embers. Numair shielded his mind as well as he could, and looked for the three mages.

The first was an old woman, who he found rocking on her heels in a small, isolated chamber near where he had broken through the barrier. She had half a smile on her face as she wove patterns into the air, but her eyes were flat and dead. When he tried to speak to her, she did not move or try to reply- she simply continued drawing shapes, shaping spells without casting the gift, with the strange smile on her face.

_Dear Mithros, they're all going insane! _Numair thought, looking around the room. For in the tiny chamber there were several other mages- both male and female, and all with the same odd expression on their face, as if something in their souls had broken beyond repair. Some wove shapes as obsessively as the woman; some stared blankly at the walls. One, a teenager with raw scars on his wrists, had been tied down to a bed so he couldn't move, only stare balefully at the door. The room stank of excrement and stale flesh, as if these people had simply been left there to rot.

The next room he drifted in to was no better. The men and women in this room were not insane, but they had the same detached appearance as the others. They were sitting at long tables, studying in complete silence, not looking at each other. It was as if each person had retreated into their own mind, and didn't realise there was anyone else in the room with them. Grim faced soldiers strolled up and down the room, watching the mages closely. The people in this room were all middle aged- pinch-faced, with burning eyes. Each one had a nervous habit- this one tapping his fingers silently against the table, this one picking at her eyebrows absently as she turned a page- and again, they were completely unaware of their own habits. It was as if they had trained themselves to meditate throughout their whole lives, rather than face reality. The reddish-pink mage was in this room, a skeletal man in his mid-forties who chewed his nails as he worked. Numair decided not to speak to him when he was surrounded by guards- it was too much of a risk, and he looked too nervous not to react.

The next room was exactly the same, but the mages were younger. The youngest one in this room looked about five, her face still lively but already beginning to glaze over with the dull introversion of the others. The children did not play, they did not chatter, they simply sat on long benches while one of the older mages lectured them in a flat monotone. As Numair watched, the mage finished his speech and sat down. One of the men in guard's uniform stood up in his place, scowling, and began to speak. It was the same doctrine Laurent had spewed on the beach, but delivered in a cutting voice. Any child who moved or flinched when the guard's voice grew to a shout was treated to a special description of their own personal sinfulness and damnation. The green mage was a girl of about eleven, with red hair and a subtle expression of disobedience.

Numair smiled. Perfect.

He reached out to her as carefully as he could, trying to attach the other end of the speaking spell to her without her realising. To his surprise, she raised an eyebrow nearly imperceptibly and accepted the spell without moving an inch.

_You're not someone I know. _She said instantly, _Who are you? Identify yourself!_

_A mage from the prison. _He replied, _I'm here to help you. _Maybe not so subtle, but the ease with which she mind-spoke had thrown him slightly. She hadn't looked devious enough, nor old enough, to cope with it.

_If you're in the prison, you shouldn't be worried about helping us. _She snapped, _Seems like you can't even help yourself. _

Abruptly, she closed the connection. Numair blinked and found himself back in the cell, looking at the spell etched on the floor. To his relief, a thin thread of magic ran from it- black magic running towards the stone building, and green running back again. The green was nearly invisible. She hadn't destroyed the spell completely- she'd just stopped that particular conversation. The link was still there.

It was frightening how easy she'd found it, even with the collar stopping her using her full gift. Numair wondered uneasily if all the mages were that powerful.

Before he could finish the thought, the spell lit up with green fire. The girl's voice rang out through it, cold and imperious.

"Decide why you want to help us. What does it mean to you? How much are you prepared to risk? What do you want in return? You have two hours. If your answers to these three questions are satisfactory, then we will agree to talk with you some more."

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Feral instinct took over, as it always had. She didn't consciously shapeshift, but the threat and the magic that still thickened the air forced her back into the safety of the pack mentality. Claws and teeth lengthened even as she took an involuntary step back. Her low growl was the only sound in the clearing, and it echoed in the false acoustic of the counterfeit cave. The dragon didn't move- didn't respond at all- as the creature that was half human and half wolf stalked towards it.

She got within a few feet of the enormous immortal before her legs locked into place. She snapped at them, trying to release herself from the paralysing spell- not realising that she was paralysed with fear. The dragon's lack of movement was terrifying; it was both an insult to her pack and a challenge to her ferocity. If it would only attack..!

And then, the screaming began again.

It was not quiet, or subtle, or contained- it was wild and shrill and very, very real. It shrieked in her ears and in her mind, blinding her with white pain. Her legs, which were stiffened with pain, collapsed under her. She clapped her hands to her ears, not noticing when the elongated claws tore into her scalp. It made no difference. The sound sliced through her mind like a blade, and left behind only ragged darkness. Fighting the impulse used the last of her energy. As so many had before her, she finally surrendered to the screams. They flooded through her unguarded mind, through her heart and her soul, a roaring tide of white light and black violence. The wolf-girl's mind shut down under this assault; she fainted.

The screaming continued... and this time, everyone could hear it.

Outside the cave, the Tundra pack broke their habitual silence and howled, trying to block out the sound by creating their own. Travellers on the mountain passes looked up at the slopes, their ears ringing with both sounds, and shivered at the sight of the pack fleeing, howling, from the cover of the trees. Like the wolves, all they wanted to do was run away from the screaming.

To the south, the imprisoned mages blinked, their usual blank expressions replaced with fear. They looked into each other's eyes for the first time, linked in confusion, communicating for the first time. Their guards did not try to stop them; they stared out of the windows with widened eyes. The prisoners in the jail scooped handfuls of snow from their windows to stop their ears, a habit they had learned in their time in the place where people were tortured.

Ged, pacing a path in the snow outside the hidden cave, sketched a sign against evil on his chest but did nothing else. His mind was caught up with other matters, and the sound did not frighten him. For all he knew, it was a sound sent by the Hunter God to mask the sounds from the cave. Perhaps the God didn't want the Bronzers to hear them. Whatever the reason, Ged was glad he didn't have to hear the sounds; This aspect of feminine life was completely beyond him.

As suddenly as it has started, the screaming stopped. The silence was almost as painful as the screams for a brief, roaring moment, then the sounds of normal life drifted back. The wind passing through the winter trees, softly hissing, broken by the strange damp sounds that snow made as it was swept from the branches. A wolf pack howled nearby. Ged shrugged off his thoughts and returned to pacing.

The wind played through the trees, linking every player in the gods' games for a brief second. The wolves stopped howling and turned to their cubs, tenderly listening to their whimpers and comforting them in the silence. The travellers stopped running and returned to their habitual trudge. Snow melted from the prisoner's ears, as the silence turned the ice to water.

Daine woke up.

She raised a hand to her face, watching the fingers tremble in the strange magical light. Her palm was completely smooth, her nails short and bitten- the hand of a human, not a wolf. The screams echoed in her ears, but the silence healed her mind like a balm. She remembered being human, she remembered being a wolf, and she remembered that they were different. Her thoughts were once again her own.

The girl sat up on the grass, wrapping her arms around her knees, and cried. The dragon didn't move at the sound- and of course it couldn't, for it was dead. She had thought the screams would kill her, as they had so many others- but she was still here, and for the first time in days she was completely human. The bloodlust and rage had gone, and all that was left was Daine. The illusion around her was warm and comforting, a land of summer hidden in an eternity of winter. She stood up, perfectly at ease in her own body now, and looked around. There was a large pile of cloth in one corner. She searched through it, realising it must be clothes taken from washing lines and abandoned houses. She found the warmest clothes and dressed in them. The cloth smelled slightly metallic, like the dragon had rested on it when it was alive.

The dead dragon was slightly warm when she walked up to it. Its scales were slippery smooth and yet soft, like finely tanned leather, and emitted a kind of warm glow. Most of the heat in the cave must be coming from the dragon, Daine realised. She wondered how long it had been dead. Maybe it had lived in the caves under the mountain for years, unnoticed by the people living above it, and had simply died in its dream of summertime. But somehow, she doubted it. The cave was far too small for a creature as large as this to hide for a long time, and what would it eat? Perhaps it had felt its end drawing near, and it had wanted to die somewhere beautiful. The cave, rather than being frightening, suddenly felt more like an ornate tomb.

She felt sorry for it. Poor thing! To be buried in its own imagination, without anyone knowing anything about it... She stroked the soft scales gently.

"I don't know your name, or why you're here," she said softly, "But you deserved better than this, I'm fair certain."

There was a faint noise, a rustling of scales over grass. She jumped and looked down. Peering at her from behind one of the dragon's paws was a tiny, painfully thin face. It squeaked and ducked down when it saw her looking at it.

A baby dragon! Daine breathed out slowly, realising suddenly what had happened. The adult dragon had created this place so that its child would be born somewhere safe and beautiful, and then died before the baby was old enough to leave the sanctuary. The tiny dragon must have been here alone for weeks, to have grown so thin. It clung pathetically to its mother's arm as she walked up to it.

As soon as she got too near it, the dragon closed its eyes and screamed. The sound was blinding. She stopped walking and took a step back, and the sound disappeared.

"It's alright, I won't hurt you." Daine said soothingly, crouching down to be closer to its level. The dragon bared its tiny teeth warningly. "You've been down here a while, right? Frightened, and alone, and starving..." her voice seemed to calm the dragon slightly- it lowered its head and stared at her. Daine continued talking, keeping her voice low.

"It's been you who has been screaming, right, little dragon? You can't help it- you're so young; all babies cry when they're scared. It's just that not all babies have dragon magic, right? And all your pain and hurt's been getting out of this place, and the humans couldn't deal with it, and it's made them ill. You've hurt a lot of people, little dragon."

The dragon took a hesitant step toward her, still slightly clumsy on new legs. She didn't move, just watched encouragingly. If anything, the dragon looked ashamed at her words. She kept talking to it.

"But you didn't kill me. I wonder why? I must have scared you, getting through your ma's defences like that and looking like I did."

The dragon whistled slightly- a noise of agreement. Daine smiled.

"Did you recognise me? I'm the one who tried to speak to you before."

Again, a whistle of agreement. The dragon flapped its wings hopefully, and took another step towards her. She held out a hand, smiling.

"I think you saved my life today, little dragon. Thank you! If you'll permit me, I'll look after you from now on. You look like you could use something to eat!"

This triggered a much stronger whistle of agreement, and another flutter of wings. The dragon nuzzled its face against her open palm and let her pick it up. As she did, the light in the sanctuary turned rose coloured. A melodious, powerful voice rang through the clearing like a bell.

"Thank you, little human, for finding us. I entrust my daughter, Skysong, to your care. Guard her well!"

The light brightened to summertime brightness once again. Daine blinked and hugged the dragon, guessing that the dead dragon had left some part of herself in the magic that formed the clearing, to maintain it when she died. As if agreeing with her, the trees and grass started melting away until girl and dragon were standing in a large, rock strewn cave. The cold winter air flooded in, making both girl and dragon shiver.

"Well, Skysong, shall we go?" Daine asked, and started walking towards daylight.


	22. Chapter 21: The Wolf and the Dragon

888

Tundra

Chapter 21: The Wolf and the Dragon

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"Ged!"

The voice broke him out of his reverie. At least, he pretended he'd been lost in his thoughts- really, he was just spacing out. The lack of sleep was starting to affect him more than it usually did.

"It's too damn cold in this country, that's what it is," he said under his breath. To his embarrassment, the woman overheard and laughed shortly.

"You're right there." She stepped out of the entrance to the cave, a cloth bundle held in one hand. "Listen, I need you to sit with Rowan for a while. Don't worry!" She laughed again at his stricken face, "It's all over- she's asleep at the moment. She just shouldn't be left alone. Not here." She glared at the mountain, rocks, and the snow in general.

"Where are you going?" Ged folded his arms, neither agreeing or disagreeing to her request. She gestured to the bundle.

"I have to bury these rags. I'm sure you wouldn't want to do it." She smiled and stood to one side, gesturing to the cave. "In you go! I won't be long."

Ged pretended to roll his eyes, and walked into the cave. Until he was struck by the heat of the fire, he hadn't realised how cold it had been outside. The day had faded while he stood guard, and the evening air was bitter. The fire was almost obscenely warm. The scents of smoke masked the coppery smells of blood and sweat slightly, which he was glad of. He sat down gingerly on one of the fern-and-fir pallets, not daring to look around in case he saw something from that other world of women. Rowan was asleep on the other pallet, a cloth-wrapped shape lying next to her. One work-tanned hand was lying protectively on the shape; she rested her head on the other hand like a child. He watched her for a few minutes, and then switched his attention to the fire.

Alanna was gone longer than he'd expected. He stared at the fire, wondering what he would do when she got back. He didn't like her to be relying on him like this, especially when he had other things to do. He resolved to leave as soon as she got back, and return to his inspection of the soldiers.

"You _are_ real." The voice was quiet, tired, but it made him jump. He glanced around at the other pallet. Rowan's eyes were open, staring at him with none of the hostility she had shown before.

"I'm sorry, miss?" He asked, supremely awkward. She smiled slightly.

"You're real. I thought I'd imagined you." Her eyes were apologetic, her voice slurred with weariness. "I was very rude, and I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it!" Ged blustered, "If I was... I mean, obviously I wouldn't be, but if I were having a baby... um." He floundered to a halt, having completely embarrassed himself, and shrugged expansively. This time the girl's smile was genuine.

"I'm glad to hear it. I'm Rowan. It's nice to meet you, even if it is in rather strange circumstances." She held out a hand, her eyes mischievous. "See, there's no knife in it this time."

"I'm Ged," said the warrior, relaxing slightly. He took her hand and held it for a moment. "I'm glad I was able to assist you, even in a small way. Your ancestors will be proud of your courage and honour when they look down on this day."

Rowan looked confused, but didn't take her hand away. "That was...sweet." she replied. "Is that a custom where you are from?"

"It is, but usually my people say it without meaning it." He winked at her. "Not like me, of course. I would never lie to a beautiful lady."

She laughed shortly and took her hand away, using it to gesture to the sleeping baby on the pallet beside her. "It's... he's a boy." Her voice was slightly awed. "You can hold him, if you like. His name is James."

James was tiny, red, and well washed. He was tightly wrapped up in cloth, so only his face showed. The boy's face was screwed up in sleep, peaceful yet disgruntled, as if he was dreaming of crying. To Ged's eye, he looked like one of the pickled walnuts the travellers sold in jars in the islands. He picked him up gingerly, terrified in case he broke him or dropped him. The baby seemed to realise he was in an uneasy embrace- he squirmed in his swaddling, his face becoming even redder and more wrinkled. Ged had a moment of pure panic as the baby's mouth opened, and the most unholy row he had ever heard screamed forth.

"What did I do?" He asked the child, then Rowan. To his dismay, the girl had fallen back to sleep. He tried putting the baby back on the pallet, thinking it would just fall asleep with her, but he screamed even more. "Rowan, what do I do?" He hissed.

Her eyes opened, even more blearily than before. "He's hungry, I guess. Help me sit up."

He put James down for a relieved moment and slipped an arm under her back, lifting her upright easily. Then he realised what she'd said, and flushed in new embarrassment. "You're going to feed him? Now?"

"That's what I said, genius." She muttered, picked the baby up almost as clumsily as he had and staring at his tiny, screaming face. "I'm pretty sure that these things need feeding. You can turn around if you're embarrassed; I'm too tired to care."

He turned around, his face flaming. _Oh, Hunter God! _He thought desperately, _why on earth have you sent me here? I'm not a nursemaid! _

He left the cave, deciding to stand guard outside until she'd finished. There was still no sign of Alanna. He leaned against one of the trees and sighed, watching the snow which had started to fall lightly onto the ground. The dim light from the cave illuminated the flakes as they drifted past.

_Well, that's no good. _He thought. _Anyone could see that. _

He was searching in the nearby copse of trees for flat pieces of bark to block off the light, when soft footsteps made him stand stock still, suddenly alert and searching the trees for this person. It didn't sound like Alanna's unfamiliar trudging steps through the snow- this person was lighter and easier on their feet on the slippery slopes. He slipped as silently as he could through the trees towards the sound,

A slight, silent figure was walking through the trees, their footsteps quiet but not silent in the soft snow underfoot. They were walking with certainty, as if they knew the area well, and there was a silhouette of some kind in their arms. He couldn't see if the person was armed in the dark, but he guessed they were- from what he'd seen of this area, any person was a threat. This was most likely to be another of the Bronzers Alanna had told him about.

He suddenly felt incredibly protective of the woman and her baby, who he'd left alone in the cave because he was too embarrassed to guard her properly. Because of his search for wood, this stranger had got between him and the cave. He followed the silhouette silently to the cliff side, watching warily to see if they knew where the cave was. The light wasn't so obvious from this angle, maybe they'd...

There. A shifting of direction, a tilt of the head that suggested a new purpose. This stranger had seen the light, and was walking towards the cave.

Not bothering about silence any more, Ged burst out of the trees and ran towards the figure. The person jumped, spun around, and then carefully crouched and put the silhouette that had been in their arms into the snow. They stood between the silhouette and the Wolf, waiting calmly as if this attack was completely expected.

He was getting closer. He reached out as he ran. Three feet... two...

"Hello, Ged." Daine said quietly, and then sidestepped neatly to stand beside the silhouette. Ged abruptly stopped, forgetting he was on snow, and skidded to an undignified halt in a snow-laden fern. "Tetchy today, aren't you?"

"What...? You!" He gasped, shaking snow from his hair angrily. He couldn't see if she was laughing at him in the dark frozen air, but he suspected she was. "Why did you do that? I thought you were one of..."

"One of Laurent's cronies? Hardly." She said, her voice dry. "I'm looking for someone. The last time I saw them they were near here." She knelt to pick up the silhouette from the snow. In the darkness, it looked like a small cat.

"You've been rescuing kittens?" Ged said sarcastically, feeling the snow melting horribly and trickling down between his shoulder blades. There was a faint whistle, and Daine laughed at the sound.

"I suppose that's as good an explanation as any. She likes being called a kitten, I think." She shook her head suddenly, sending drops of melted water flying: an alarmingly wolf-like motion. "Look, is there anywhere we can talk? I'm freezing, and the ..._kitten_ here is hungry."

Ged glanced at the cave, and then mentally shrugged. It seemed that the god was determined to keep this little company growing, for some reason. Without a word, he led Daine into the cave. Her eyes widened slightly at the warmth and homeliness of the room, and she raised an eyebrow at the shape of Rowan, who was sleeping again with James in her arms, but she didn't say anything. Her eyes flicked uneasily at the bundle in her arms, and then at Ged, as if gauging his reaction.

He glanced at it, expecting to see a kitten or an older cat with a broken leg, or something equally normal. The creature in Daine's arms looked up lazily, already basking in the heat, and whistled through its reptilian snout.

"Dragon..!" He breathed, and sat down heavily. The dragon looked at him curiously, and then whistled something to Daine.

"Kitten," she translated.

"Dragon!" He repeated, more forcefully this time. His mind seemed to have gotten stuck on that one word. Daine looked at him, and then shrugged and put Kitten down on the floor, sitting next to her. Without a word, she opened one of the supply bags that were lying on the floor and searched through it.

"Don't you have any food?" She asked irritably. She searched through the other bags with no better result, and then glanced at Kitten. The dragon had curled up dangerously close to the fire and was sleeping soundly, too tired to be hungry- but she was sure that the tiny creature would be ravenous when she woke up. She found a rough knife in one of the bags and tucked it into her belt.

"I'm going hunting. Look after Kitten while I'm gone." She said shortly, and left the cave.

Ged sat half-paralysed in the flickering orange light, halfway between a newborn baby and an impossible baby dragon, and wondered if he was in one of the Trickster's jokes.

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	23. Chapter 22: Committee

888

Tundra 

Chapter 22: Committee

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It seemed that only a few minutes had gone by in the darkness when the spell flared once again with green light. This time, there was no voice as the green gift left the spell. Instead, the light ran throughout the cell, bathing the walls in bright luminescence that faded into the stones- a warding spell, Numair guessed. He was still confused as to how the girl managed to do all this, with the collar around her throat.

Her voice, when she eventually spoke, was just as cold and efficient. "What are your answers, mage? The first question was, why do you want to help us?"

He took a breath to answer, and then paused. His carefully prepared answer seemed to turn to ash in his mouth, and he found himself speaking bluntly.

"I have three reasons."

"Tell us."

_Us? _He thought, confused, but carried on speaking.

"I killed a woman in Carthak who had been trained to kill with her gift, and then sold as a slave. She didn't have to die; I could have stopped her, but she had been taken over with madness until she was possessed by the Gift. She couldn't control it, and she died. When I saw how you are treated, I saw the same thing happening to each and every person there. That is my first reason."

"But you say you only thought this when you saw the training centre. You must have had another reason, for you to break the barrier in the first place." The girl's voice said flatly. "This is not a _good_ reason."

"Fine." He sat up straighter, ignoring the pain of movement. "My second reason is that you are being trained as soldiers, as weapons. I've seen a large army being amassed near here- many more people than are needed to police a country this size. The only reason for it would be to attack another country, and the nearest neutral country is my own. They're struggling fighting the immortals; they would be utterly defeated in a war. If I help you, then you would be free to fight against the people who have imprisoned you for so long."

"So your second reason is that you want to start a civil war to protect your country?" The girl's voice was slightly incredulous. "And you think you're strong enough to liberate us on your own, from your prison cell?" A fragment of the green light brushed against his head briefly, then fled back to the speaking spell. The next time the girl spoke, her voice was thoughtful. "Yes, I see that you are. Very well, mage. Your second reason is a good reason, but it assumes that we would be prepared to help _you._ And we know nothing about you. Is this what you want in exchange for your help? What is your third reason?"

"I have friends who are hiding from the soldiers in this country. As long as the country is at peace the soldiers will be searching for them. Therefore I intend to... distract them. And as for your other question- in exchange for my friends' safety, I am prepared to risk everything to help you."

"An honest reason, at least." The girl agreed, her voice slightly warmer. "Good. We will consider your reasons."

Numair scratched his nose vaguely. "How many of you are listening in, then?"

"Oh, all of us." The girl said, and disappeared from the spell, leaving it dark once again. Numair mouthed the words 'a_ll of them?' _at the ceiling. He waited in darkness again, listening to the water dripping down the walls. It must be close to midnight; he heard the guard yawning as he patrolled the corridor outside.

He was half asleep when the spell lit up again. "Very well." The girl said, "We accept. We will talk again at this time tomorrow."

He opened his mouth to respond, but the spell was already closed. Shrugging, slightly annoyed at this child's easy ability to confuse him, he leaned back against the wall and fell asleep.

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Rowan woke up to the sound of people arguing. Their voices were hushed, but as their argument got more heated their words crackled like the logs on the fire. She sat up slightly, careful not to jog the baby, then jumped as an arm slipped around her shoulders.

"It's just me," Ged said quietly, helping her to sit up straight. "I thought they'd wake you up soon. They've been arguing for _ages." _

"Who have?" Rowan brushed the sleep from her eyes and blinked, but the two people were on the other side of the fire pit. They obviously hadn't noticed the soft conversation, they were too busy hissing at each other. Ged pointed at the taller of the two shapes.

"Her name is Daine. Alanna knows her from when she was in Tortall, and I know her from when she was in the Yamani islands- she was on the same boat as me when we landed in this country. She's been looking for Alanna, presumably to yell at her. And there's a dragon around here somewhere that's convinced it's a kitten, or something."

"A dragon?" She squeaked, looking around frantically. Where ever Kitten was, she wasn't in plain sight. Ged smiled, pretending he hadn't reacted exactly the same way the night before.

"Don't worry, it's only so big," he held his hands slightly apart. "It ate a load of chicken- and gods only know where she found _that- _and then it fell asleep. It snores, but apart from that it seems pretty harmless. Are you hungry?"

"Starving!" She declared, louder than she had meant to. She clapped a hand over her mouth, looking guiltily at James in case she'd roused him. Ged grinned and stood up, walking to the other side of the fire to fetch the leftover chicken scraps.

"But that still doesn't explain why you're _here_," Daine hissed to Alanna as he walked past. The knight's face was slightly flushed with anger, Daine's wasn't much better.

"I'm looking for my family!" She said, "The Swoop got the plague- started by your new little pet, I might add!- and they came this way."

"Kit didn't mean anything by it!" Daine retorted, "At least it wasn't some mage gone mad, like they thought!"

"We have to turn that... _thing_ in to them, explain what happened." Alanna's voice was stubborn. "They're preparing for a _war_, for Mithros' sake!"

"You can't do that, they'd kill her!" She realised she was shouting and lowered her voice, looking uneasily at the cave entrance in case anyone had heard. "You don't know what these people are like! She's only a baby, and they won't understand her!"

Alanna ran a hand irritably through her hair, pacing slightly in the tiny space. "And what's to say she won't do it again? Hundreds of people have died because of that dragon. I can't risk starting a war on the vague promise that the creature won't do it again, or that she's sorry she killed..."

"Don't speak to me about killing people." Daine's voice was poisonous, angry. "She wasn't the one who was crawling over the mountains killing Bronzers! It's your fault this whole stupid thing got started in the first place! It's your fault that..."

"That wasn't me!" Alanna's eyes flicked unconsciously to Rowan, then back, furiously, to Daine, hoping she hadn't seen the involuntary movement. Daine blinked at her, and then scowled at the girl who was hidden by shadows.

"Her?" She demanded, "_She _did it?"

"She only did it because..." Alanna started, grabbing for the other girl's arm and missing. Daine ran around the fire in three easy steps, her face thunderous. Rowan screamed and tried to bury herself under the furs. Daine grabbed her shoulders and hauled her upright, shaking her roughly.

"You did it?" She yelled, half blinded by rage. She shook off the hands that tried to pull her off. "You little bitch! Don't you realise what you've done!"

This time the hands wrapped around her waist and dragged her away, leaving Rowan weeping next to a screaming baby. Daine squirmed against the grip, still reaching murderously for the other girl.

"Daine, calm down," Ged said, not loosening his grip. "Rowan had a good reason for doing what she did. If you'd only talk to her..."

"I don't want to talk to her." Daine said mutinously, but stopped struggling. "Let me go."

"Not until you apologise." He replied, iron in his voice. She scowled, and drew a breath to make a sharp retort, when Rowan sat up to comfort her baby. For the first time, the firelight lit her face. It was tired, tear stained and pale, but horribly familiar.

"Oh, dear gods." Daine whispered.

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	24. Chapter 23: Hive Minds

A/N: I read through my reviews- sorry to all those people who've been telling me to finish this story! Hopefully this is a step toward...

Tundra

Chapter 23: Hive Minds

This is the hive mind.

It waits patiently, for the hive mind has no emotion. It watches everything, but understands little. It has no direction, and no purpose. It is ancient, the sum total of all of its years, and yet it is as young and innocent as its smallest part. It drifts aimlessly, the hive mind trapped in a land of snow. Each part of it has its own life and existence, but their hive existence is more important than any flights of independence. The ones who reject unity become outliers, and they are the ones that go insane. Occasionally an outlier may escape this fate, but the hive mind takes no more part in their existence, and honestly mourns for them. For the hive mind knows two things.

To be unified is to be strong.

To be weak is to die.

The strength of the hive mind has never been tested, for there has been no need. Within their unity the individuals know that they are protected, although their protection might be in the form of a locked room and a guarded life. To be behind bars is safer than being one of the ones who is sold, or dispatched, or killed, and so to be behind bars is seen as a _good_ thing.

Or at least, it was.

For the hive mind is stirring, and knows that its confinement is nearing an end. Those who own the bars, unaware of the singularity behind them, have begun their plans. Those who depend on the bars have responded in turn.

Without the outsiders, the idea might not have occurred. The trains of thought that drift through the mind encourage and instruct but rarely focus. One person may act on behalf of the hive, but their objectives usually become lost in the teeming of others, and eventually every idea is overtaken by those two main ideas.

The outsider was fully ignorant of this, and probably would not have understood if he had been told. He did not know that for the hive mind to be decisive- for it to agree to act in a certain way- that every member had to have the same objective. He did not know that his words were a catalyst. For whichever of his three reasons they agreed with, for whatever of their own purposes his plan spoke to, every single trapped mage in the Bronzer domain decided that it was a _good_ idea. The time had come to act.

As one, every part of the hive mind cried out its purpose. The ones with the blank eyes, the ones who rocked quietly to themselves in locked dorms, blinked and looked up with new purpose. It was formless and crude as a manipulation spell could possibly be, but fuelled with the power of hundreds of mages, it was impossibly strong. And still the guards were unaware.

For decades, the mages had been mocked and punished for their Gift. For decades they had been trapped and dehumanised. For decades they had the stigma of evil hanging over them like a smoke screen, separating them from "normal" people. And now, for the first time, they decided that their time had come to earn it.

The hive mind screamed, and the mountains shook.

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Alanna leapt into wakefulness with a yelled curse, making everyone else in the room jump. "Holy Mithros' spear! Did you feel that?"

They all shook their heads mutely- those that were awake. Kitten had raised her head and whistled enquiringly, but Daine was fast asleep next to her and Rowan didn't exactly look wakeful. After Daine had nearly throttled the other girl the previous night, she had simply stared at her, then curled up in one corner of the cave and fallen asleep, making herself completely unreadable. Alanna bit her lip at the others' bemused expressions and lowered her voice.

"There was a massive surge of power. Something's happening nearby. Something big." She frowned. "We should get out of here. If someone's starting to cast big spells near here then they won't be concentrating on finding us."

"Is it Numair?" Alanna jumped at the soft voice- she hadn't realised Daine was awake. The girl was lying just as still as she had been before, but her eyes were bright and very alert. Alanna remembered something George had told her about the Rogue when she'd first started visiting the Dancing Dove many years ago: Just because someone looks like they're sleeping, doesn't mean that they are. She scowled at the girl, unusually irritated by being caught out.

"It woke you up, too, didn't it?" The girl didn't reply, only held out a hand to Kitten in some form of greeting. The dragon whistled and nestled against her fingers for a moment before yawning widely. Alanna gritted her teeth and answered the question.

"I honestly have no way of knowing. It might have been. It felt more like a large spell than a powerful gift, though." She noticed the almost imperceptible droop of the girl's shoulders and added, "I have no doubt that he's involved. He always seems to be."

"I agree, then." Daine sat up suddenly, any momentary doubt gone from her mind. "We should move."

"Third." Ged raised a hand from his space in the corner. "We're not achieving anything by sitting around in a cave. I vote we go and find out what the fuss is about." He grinned suddenly, his teeth glowing red in the firelight. Alanna raised her head to nod, and then suddenly changed her mind, doubt rising in her eyes.

"That might not be a good idea. If there's a battle, it will be mages against non mages. Having someone without the gift might confuse people."

"But..." Ged started, disbelief clear on his face. The knight cut across his objections rapidly,

"Someone needs to stay here and guard Rowan."

The cave erupted: Alanna trying to remain calm and make her point; Ged arguing that there was no tactical advantage in having only mages, and anyway, he wasn't the one who got frostbite and needed to be nursed by a hedge mage; Rowan protesting that she was fine, didn't need a guard, and could look after herself very well thank you very much. Kitten decided to add to the noise by chirruping after every person spoke, as if she was agreeing with them. Daine shushed her and stood up, starting to pack away her things as quickly as she knew how. She smiled when Kitten decided to try to help, nosing a small cup across the floor towards her.

"That's not mine, Kit." She said, "But thank you all the same."

The dragon cheeped and sat down, staring a little forlornly at the cup. Without looking around, she began to pull it backwards in her teeth towards Rowan's things.

"I don't know where you think you're going," Rowan said sharply to Daine- the first words she'd spoken to her since Daine had pounced on her the night before. "Won't that...thing... freeze out there?"

Daine glanced at Kitten, who shook her head and continued struggling with the cup. Finding that enough of an answer, she continued packing someone else's things away.

"We haven't even decided where we're going yet," Rowan carried on doggedly, aware that her voice was approaching a whine. "What's the hurry?"

Daine brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and looked over at her properly for the first time. She managed to stop herself flinching, this time. She was vaguely aware that the other two had stopped arguing and were watching their conversation warily, waiting for something bad to happen. She smiled at the thought, and broke her gaze.

"There's a pack of wolves about forty minutes run away... that way." She pointed south. "If we leave in the next ten minutes then they won't be able to close the gap."

Rowan gaped at her. Daine shrugged and continued stuffing things into the bag. Kit had finally reached Rowan's pile with the cup, only to find that another cup was in its place- wrong person, again! She cooed quietly and looked around for another place.

"Give it to me, Kit." Daine said, holding out a hand. The dragon rolled her eyes and once again began the long haul across the cave.

"Can't we just kill them?" Rowan asked, her voice shaking. Daine shook her head rapidly—kill the Ledrene? Unthinkable! These humans would never fare against the pack...

Something bumped against her hand. Kitten looked over the rim of the cup with a look of absolute triumph.

"Thank you," Daine said, and meant so much more. Kitten whistled happily and looked for something else to tidy.

"Okay, let's go." Alanna said authoratively in the silence. "Ged, you stay with Rowan and find somewhere safe, and then find us if you want to fight. Rowan, I know you want to fight, but you really can't... not with James, and not without James. Go with Ged. You know the mountain better than any of us anyway, it shouldn't take you long to find somewhere. Daine..." She hesitated, not knowing if the girl would follow orders or just do her own thing. Daine smiled at her and picked up Kitten.

"I'm going with you. I can call the wolves away from Ged and... and her... for a while." She picked up a ragged but warm fur from the floor and wrapped it around the protesting dragon, who squirmed and made squawking noises. "Behave, you!" She ordered, and Kit settled down, grumbling.

Ged and Alanna were reaching for their packs when Rowan's voice cut across the cave, harsh in its emotion. "That's it? You're just going to _believe_ her? She could be lying, or leading us into a trap, or anything! You saw what she tried to do to me last night!"

The object of her complaint ignored her and left the cave, carrying the chirping dragon easily under one arm. Alanna and Ged glanced at each other, waiting for the other one to speak.

"She's trustworthy." Ged said finally, "She does things wrong, or badly, or without telling people who could help her, but I've never known her do something for a bad reason."

Alanna nodded. "Same. If she says there's a pack of wolves, the only reason she would be lying is if there was something even worse."

"Or, she just doesn't like you." Ged said cheerfully, meeting Alanna's predictable scowl with a cheeky grin. He waved and stepped out of the cave with a cry of "Oh, it's so good to stretch my legs!" The people in the cave could hear a short laugh and an approving whistle, bright on the crisp air.

Alanna picked up James and wrapped him carefully in as many furs as she could manage. "Good luck," She said awkwardly, handing him over. And then she left too. The sounds of footsteps crunching through snow got further away as she and Daine left.

"Well, are you coming?" Ged called. Rowan allowed herself a smile, and picked up her things.

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	25. Chapter 24: Two Conversations

Tundra 

Chapter 24: Two conversations

"So how did you know about the wolves?" Alanna asked a few hours later, stepping over an icy tree root. Two trails of footprints stretched away behind them- now that they weren't being hunted, there seemed little point in covering their tracks. Daine shrugged uncomfortably and carried on walking a few feet ahead. "Oh, come on. I know you were with them. Are they hunting you now?"

"No." Daine shifted Kitten in her arms- the dragon had fallen asleep and turned into a dead weight. "Honestly, you really don't want to know."

The knight stopped short in her tracks, slipping slightly on the uneven ice. "That's enough. I know Numair lets you get away with keeping secrets and doing your own thing, never mind the rest of us... but I can't deal with that. I need to know what's going on so I can make tactical decisions- and so does Ged. I don't care what you think about Rowan. I don't think you truly believe that any of this was my fault. You can keep whatever guilt and anger you want to, but you will tell me what's going on or so help me I'll... I'll..."

Daine watched her rant, her face carefully expressionless, then unexpectedly bit her lip and looked away. "Don't worry about threatening me." She said quietly, "I owe you more than a few secrets, I guess. Promise me two things, and then I'll tell you."

"What are they?" Alanna said, her voice guarded. Daine didn't answer, but gently woke Kitten up, unwrapped her from the fir she was in, and put her down to run around. When the dragon was completely consumed with examining the snow and her tiny footprints, she answered the question.

"If I... if something happens, will you look after Kitten? You didn't really mean what you said yesterday about handing her over to the Bronzers." It wasn't a question, and Alanna was glad of that. To some extent it was an apology for getting into a shouting match with someone whose temper was just as sharp as her own. She nodded her head mutely, watching the dragon sniffing at some loose snow and sneezing loudly.

"I don't know what you think will happen, but I promise that I'll look after her. What's the second one?"

Daine opened her mouth to answer, and then shut it and looked away, thinking of how to say it. Alanna waited, getting less patient as the minutes passed and the cold of the snow began to creep through her inactive limbs. Kitten stopped at Daine's feet and cheeped, asking to be picked up again. When Daine complied the little creature looked curiously at her paws, obviously wondering why they'd gone numb. Daine looked at Kitten when she spoke, and never glanced up.

"The wolves are coming. I've been calling them to me since we left the cave, and they will be here soon. I need you to promise..." She took a deep breath and started again, "Look, you can't kill any of the pack. No matter what you hear, or what they do, or what I tell them, you mustn't touch them. But..."

"But?" Alanna prompted gently, starting to walk again. Daine trailed after her automatically, wincing at the stiffness of the cold that had already crept into her feet. Alanna almost didn't notice when the girl started speaking again, her voice was so quiet.

"When the wolves are here... when I get near the wolves... I can't remember who I am. I become one of them. I thought I could control it, but it's been getting worse." She held up a hand to stop Alanna replying, and carried on, the words pouring out in a flood. "The ledrene knows, I think, that I am different. She showed me how to find you in return for me stopping Kitten from... in return for stopping the plague. As far as she's concerned, we owe each other nothing now. But she thinks I have something she wants, and I've been calling to her to collect it from me since we started walking. She wants Rowan's baby."

"What? Why?" Alanna blurted out. Daine ignored her, absently knocking some snow off a low branch with her free hand.

"I don't know what will happen when they get here. I don't know if they'll be angry or tired or happy. I don't know if I'll be a human or a wolf or some creature that's both. I might be able to talk them away, but if I can't... if I..."

"You mean if you start turning into a wolf, like what happened before?" Alanna asked gently. Daine nodded slowly.

"Ye-es... but you might not be able to see it. My mind goes wolf before the rest of me does. I think Kit can sense it." She smiled briefly as the dragon chirped at the sound of her name. "If that happens, you mustn't hesitate. If it happens, it means I'm about to turn on you. You should kill me before I get the chance."

Alanna gave a shocked laugh, "You cannot be serious."

"I'm perfectly serious." Daine smiled at her, as if actually speaking her idea was the only thing that was upsetting about it. "It makes more sense than for you, and Ged, and Rowan, and...and Numair, to be constantly watching your backs while you should be guarding your fronts. You know this." Her face took on a more serious shadow. "Alanna, I nearly killed that girl last night. And why? Because I truly believed, in my heart, that what the ledrene had told me was true. I was more prepared to listen to a starving, half-crazed she-wolf than either you or Ged. If she didn't look like... if I hadn't seen her, I might not have come back last night. Back to reality, I mean. And that was when the pack were miles away."

"You did it because of Numair." The older woman said, remembering the argument they'd had. Daine blinked and looked away briefly.

"Perhaps. The thought was of him, but the madness was not. Do you think he'd forgive me if he heard I attacked a woman in her childbed for defending herself?" This time the laugh was hers, and it was laden with bitterness. "I do things for the wrong reasons, and badly, and without confiding in people, and I don't deserve the trust any of you have in me."

There was an awkward silence, broken only by the crunching of the snow and the occasional dull thump as some fell from branches into the drifts. Alanna bit her lip, not wanting to ask if Daine had been listening to their conversation- but of course she had, it was part of who she was. Instead, she changed the subject.

"Did you know that Katryn had a sister?"

"She didn't." Daine's voice was expressionless. "That girl has her face, but she's not her sister. She shared nothing of her life, and nothing of her death. As far as Katryn was concerned, she had no family, and no country, and no home. She's not her sister."

The awkward silence continued, but this time it was punctuated by the distant howls of the pack of wolves. Alanna shivered, and told herself it was the cold as she checked that her knife had not frozen in its scabbard.

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Rowan and Ged had not walked far up the mountain, but Rowan could hardly remember a more terrifying time. It seemed to stretch on for hours. The howls of the wolves were close, and she was very aware of the sound every footstep made in the snow. Surely, surely the wolves would hear them and attack? And yet they didn't, even when they were close enough for their own steps to be heard. The two humans hid against the rocks that were almost cliffs in this area, hardly daring to breathe, close enough to see the fog of the predators' breath as they ran past. The leader of the pack barely glanced at the humans as they sped past, and the ones who followed her followed suit. Rowan whimpered and clutched James more tightly to her chest when one of the younger wolves looked around curiously, nearly stopping. Before its feet were still, the leader snarled at it, and it began running again.

"Are you okay?" Ged asked quietly, "I didn't know they were going to be so close to us. Daine must really be pulling at them for them to ignore humans like that- they didn't even care that they were seen!" His eyes shone as he stared after the wolves; he was obviously very impressed by the whole thing. Rowan scowled and started walking again, pushing past him rudely to get away from the cliff. She didn't look back at him, aware from his footsteps that he was keeping pace a few steps behind, walking easily where she was beginning to struggle.

"You know," the man said conversationally, "There's really no reason for you to be so rude. I haven't been discourteous, and you don't know me well enough for any of my actions to upset you."

Rowan bit her lip, and glanced back. His expression was perfectly pleasant, but his eyes had a dangerous expression. She flicked her hair over her shoulder as she looked forward again. "You don't have to be here. You obviously want to be with the others. I don't need a body guard."

"Ah, the lady speaks!" Ged replied, ignoring her last comment. "And she makes her point so well! If you're jealous, why didn't you say so?"

"Jealous?" Without thinking, the girl spun around and glared at him, sending snow flying. "What do I care if you like that other girl? I never asked you to interfere with my life in the first place!"

Ged looked honestly nonplussed for a moment,. "I was talking about Alanna." He frowned as Rowan rolled her eyes and began to walk off again. "How long were you planning on manipulating her into staying with you after you had your baby? If I hadn't come along, or Daine, would you still be coaxing her into meeting your petty revenge?" He was aware that he was shouting, and closed his mouth with a snap. Rowan was really struggling now; the path had disappeared into a steep incline of rocks, and she could hardly walk, let alone climb and carry James. She tried a few times to climb the first boulder and gave up, facing him with a hand defiantly on her hip as he walked towards her.

"Ah, the man speaks." She called sarcastically, "And he makes his point so badly! I'm not jealous, and I don't manipulate people, and my revenge is none of your damn business." James shifted in his heavy swaddling and started to cry thinly, distracting her.

"Sit down before you fall down." Ged said quietly, "You're shaking."

"I'm cold." She retorted, but sat down anyway. A tiny hand emerged from the bundle in her arms; she tucked James back in properly and cuddled him closely to warm him up. Ged watched in silence, wondering about her earlier comment. He'd wanted to confront her about what the hell she was doing since he'd taken in the situation, but he never intended to yell at her for it. There was something about the woman that just made him take the offensive.

"You don't have a chance with her, anyway." Rowan said quietly. "So there's no point in being jealous, is there?"

"Who, Alanna?" Ged was now totally lost. Rowan laughed scornfully and shook her head. He realised that no matter how scathing her voice had been, she had never met his gaze. Her voice was almost apologetic when she answered him.

"She never looked twice at you. It's not like she was ignoring you, it's just that you didn't matter enough to her for her to spend time paying you attention. And your eyes followed her around the room, but there would be no point in my being jealous of that, would there? Even if I wanted to be in the first place. Which I don't."

Ged opened his mouth to answer, and the distant, violent howls of the wolves broke the silence. Echoing among them was the unmistakable sound of a human screaming.

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	26. Chapter 25: The Hunt

A/N: Ooops! Yep, you're right Roseflorintine, a whole year! I'm sorry, everyone. My computer decided to eat half of my stories, which is kinda discouraging. Aaaanyway...

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Tundra

Chapter 23: The Hunt

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Daine didn't even bother to look around when the twig snapped. She just shifted the bundle in her arms to a more comfortable position and stopped walking, staring straight forward.

"You don't have to play around, Fenni. I know you're there."

Alanna's hand automatically shot to her sword as the pack melted silently out of the trees, white fur on white snow, nearly invisible until that moment. Daine didn't move, but her eyes flickered up to glare at the knight until, reluctantly, she took her hand away from the hilt.

The wolves advanced... but in a strange way. They didn't have the single-minded expression of a hunting pack, or the look of loyalty to their leader that you sometimes glimpsed in other packs. The lead wolf was crouched low as she walked, shoulder blades stark against her bony back, head lowered. Her eyes were fixed on the bundle that Daine carried with starving triumph. The other wolves had none of that furious violence. They simply walked, reluctant or confused or dutiful. They ignored the red-haired woman completely and padded into a circle around the girl.

_Hand it over._

"Well, you don't mince your words, do you?" Daine's voice was scornful. The wolf snarled and took a pace closer, eyes still fixed on the prize.

_We had a deal. You agreed. Hand it over. _

"We didn't have a deal for this. I stopped the screaming."

_Hand it OVER! _Fenni howled the last word, teeth bared in the pale light and gleaming. _The deal has changed! You will hand it over or we will kill you with it!_

"I can fight you as well on two legs as four." Daine shrugged, rubbing her temple with her free hand. Catching herself making the nervous gesture, she smiled wryly and spread her free hand evenly. "But I don't want to fight. The pups need you, and the pack, and now that the screaming's stopped the prey will return."

One of the other adults made an involuntary sound, almost a whine, and looked at Fenni beseechingly. As much as the leader's hackles were raised, the rest of them looked sheepish and tired, panting from their long run. Some madness in the Ledrene had dragged her this far and she barely looked out of breath, but now the glow hesitated in her eyes. As if to reinforce Daine's words, one of the pups flopped down in the snow and rested his head on his paws. When Fenni turned to snarl at this weakness in her attack, the pup bared his own teeth.

_But mother, I'm __**tired! **_He licked at a paw experimentally, twitching at the soreness. _We've run for hours! _

Fenni blinked once, and then turned back. If her expression was human it could have been described as cunning, but on a wolf it simply looked threatening. _Fine then, human. Give me the baby, and we will not fight. My cubs will drink its blood and be strong again, and the pack will thank you. _

"You're disgusting." Daine whispered it without thinking. Whatever madness had held her before was gone, and her loyalty to this creature had been replaced by disgust that she had ever listened to her in the first place. She wanted to tear Fenni's throat out, for dragging the poor pack through this ice for miles just for some trophy kill. She would never lead a pack like that. A pack should fight, should hunt, should...

She blinked rapidly and rubbed her temple again, this time to chase the dancing thoughts away. It was almost funny. Daine-the-Wolf was still there, not destroyed by disgust, but instead of padding after the ledrene she wanted to destroy her. That was slightly better, she supposed. At least she still kept some sense of self in the whole mess. The thought drowned in the tense air, and she found herself trying to stare the other female down.

Fenni's calm had evaporated at the soft words, and a deep snarl rumbled from the depths of her throat. The other wolves whimpered, not understanding their leader's reasons, but unable to stop her from her senseless attack. They circled frantically as Daine and Fenni stared at each other, nipping at each other in their confusion, yellow eyes flickering from Fenni to Daine to the human woman who stood, frozen, in the middle of the circle. Nothing was going to break this stalemate.

Nothing, except for the thin noise that came from the bundle Daine carried. A noise that was definitely not human. It held more of the deadly scream in it than a human child could manage. The pack yelped to cover the sound, but Fenni stopped growling at it. Instead, she became dangerously quiet.

_The baby is the one who screams? _She asked, her tone almost pleasant. Daine felt her blood run cold at the tension in those words. Shaking, she handed the bundle to Alanna.

_It's not what you think, _she started to explain, and then stopped with a yelp when the ledrene darted forward, sniffing at the bundle. The other wolves were growling now, shocked by the sound into stillness. Alanna held her ground, watching the wolf with guarded eyes as Daine blocked her route to Kitten.

"They're going to attack," the knight said levelly, checking her sword. Daine spun around at the noise, her voice almost a snarl.

"It's _not their fault!" _

"Yes, but that hardly makes a difference, does it?" The woman's voice was dry as she looked around. "You need to make a decision quickly, before they make it for you."

_You lied to me. _Fenni padded closer, her nose flaring at the scent of the dragon. Her voice was dangerously soft. _You lied to the pack. You were in league with this screamer all along. You lied. _

"Yes," Daine whispered, thinking quickly, "I always do. But I don't have to answer to you for it."

_You called us here. We will find the baby eventually, but we came here in hunger. _Fenni licked her lips deliberately and took a single step closer. Behind her, the pack exchanged glances. _You will pay for your lies in blood, human from Galla. _

Before Daine had time to draw a single breath to answer, the wolf had leapt. Fenni's voice tore from her throat in a manic snarl as Daine threw herself sideways, landing awkwardly in the snow in her haste to dodge the attack. Fenni had none of her previous grace or skill as a huntress, she simply threw herself at the human in her cold rage. Daine scrambled to her feet, slipping in the ice and fighting the urge to shapeshift, to fight back wolf-to-wolf. She had to get Fenni away from here, away from this trail so she couldn't track back and find Rowan. She had to lead them away from Alanna before the knight decided a promise was only as good as the sword you could cut it with.

There was a thud, and a yelp. She looked up to see that one of the other pack adults had thrown itself at Fenni, gripping the soft flesh at the back of her neck as she struggled. As he held on grimly another adult did the same, catching Fenni's hind leg as she struggled against the gentle, but iron, grip.

_Run. _Daine didn't know which of the two adults had spoken, but the one word was enough to decide her. They couldn't hold on forever- Fenni fought with manic power, and they wouldn't bring themselves to hurt their leader. Without another word she shapeshifted and ran, finding a track that led further into the mountain and leaving a clear trail. The wolf still screamed at her, but she ignored it- for all that she was a hunter, today she was being hunted. She glided with the rapid grace of the deer she had chosen, ears flickering back to listen for the wolves, and fled.

Alanna watched her, holding her breath as the wolves thrashed against each other in the snow. It seemed like only a few heartbeats later when they streamed off after their prey, united as hunters even as the female at the front was being closely tailed by her pack. Alanna wondered if they were guarding her or caging her.

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The sound of magic may have only awoken the mages, but the second outburst from the hive mind woke up the whole mountain. Even the snows trembled, balanced precariously atop stones and scree, as if the sound had frightened them into falling away from the safe peaks into the embrace of the valleys. The sound was not loud, for it did not need to be. It projected itself through the trees and through the cities, through the ears and into the mind, a wordless warning: we are free.

How many understood it? But that did not matter; the hive mind was not there to be understood, but to be heard. After years of silence it spoke its intentions clearly, strongly, to any ears which would hear it. Let them listen. We are free.

After such a powerful introduction the next thing that happened seemed slightly odd. From the noise came a silence, and a stillness, and nothing else. There was no battle, and there was no flight. There was simply silence. The action was so small that a blink would make anyone miss it: a single green spark fled from the edge of the barrier, and sped across the snow.

Numair was expecting it- he had counted the hours since the last time the girl had spoken to him, and when the spell flared back into life he was ready to listen. This time there was no bargain, and there were no questions. The girl simply gave him an instruction, and then her voice faded. He nodded, more to himself than to reply, and did as they asked.

When the green spark danced back to the hive mind, it led a crushing flood of magic. Any mage would have seen it crashing through the forest, single-minded in its target as it raced to attack the shield that trapped the hive mind. Any mage... but there were no mages to see it. They summoned their own gifts from behind their wall, fighting the cages that bound their gifts at the exact moment that Numair struck the other side of the wall. Between two onslaughts of magic the barrier crumbled almost instantly, and vanished like a trail of smoke into the icy morning. The repercussions of three powerful magics in conflict made the walls tremble and bough, and when the spell was destroyed their last support crumbled with it. The building groaned and fell, but none of the people trapped within its ruins screamed or wept. The silence descended again, and this time not even the birds sang over it.

Something shifted in the ruins. A few stones fell down, clinking in the silence, and then a load more joined them as a bubble grew from the middle of the heap. It shone like a soap bubble, but it pushed bricks out of its way with the ease of a plough horse. When it burst, as cheerfully as a weaker bubble, a child laughed and danced in the space.

The single child tripped lightly through the ruins and danced away into the woods, laughing merrily as she left her cage behind. And that was all. No others followed her. The ruins were silent. The voice was free.

The girl caught at branches as she danced passed, giggling as the icy snow fell from them in clumps and dripped down her bare arms. She didn't seem to feel the cold. She left bare footprints in the snow behind her, spinning and twirling with her as she waltzed up towards the village. She picked up a flower of frost and twisted it into her loose red hair, and shivered in delight when her new ornament melted down her neck. She sang as if there were birds to sing back, and prattled away merrily to snowflakes as they fell.

It wasn't long before she was followed. The ruins of the building were discovered almost instantly, and her footprints were the only ones leading away. A group of men raced after her, nervous in case it had been this rogue mage who had crushed all the others under stone and left, laughing. They expected a wizened crone, or a shrieking harridan. The tiny child, adorned with her melting garland of ice, made them stop in their tracks.

One of the Bronzer's drew his sword, trying to sneak up on this child. She certainly didn't _look _dangerous, but you could never tell with mages. Unnatural lot, and perfectly mad. Another one stopped him, his eyes confused.

"She must have been spared, or escaped" he said, "One of the others must have done it. None of the children are strong enough to..."

"I know," the man with the sword said curtly, "But she's laughing."

The girl turned at their voices, smiling sweetly. The men half expected her to transform into a demon, but she didn't. Nor did she throw fire, or shout incantations. She just smiled.

And then she walked away. She didn't look back to meet their dying eyes as they crumpled into the snow. But she laughed when she heard them fall.

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